


Redo

by Master_Procrastinator



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Background Relationships, Canon Era, Character Death, Friendship, Gen, Sad, Time Loop, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-02-13 06:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 49,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12978048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Master_Procrastinator/pseuds/Master_Procrastinator
Summary: With nothing else to do, Kuroko's just going to have to keep trying until he hopefully gets it right. The only problem? He doesn't know what getting it right means.But time loops are dangerous places if you're stuck too long.





	1. Chapter 1

They had…lost. That couldn’t be right, the scoreboard must be wrong. There must be time left on the clock where his team could make a miraculous comeback. As he sat in disbelief, staring at the scoreboard from his position on the floor, Kuroko Tetsuya had to face the unimaginable: they had really lost.

It wasn't that he believed that his team couldn’t lose. He knew they could, they had before, but he had felt that they were going to win this one. Whether this feeling was just his projected hopes or not was questionable, but everything had been going their way. They had defeated every other member of the Generation of Miracles, returning them all to their basketball loving personalities. The only one left was the one who needed Kuroko’s help the most. Akashi Seijuro. Seirin had clawed their way into the final to go against Akashi’s team, Rakuzan, and be declared the Winter Cup champions.

Everything would be perfect after that, and everything would go back to the way it had been before. Only, Seirin had lost. Brutally. Kuroko looked up at the score once more, having to fight back a wince from appearing on his face. 116-66. A fifty point difference.

Maybe the biggest disappointment was that there was hope in the beginning. When the match had started, it was obvious the difference of the two teams in skill, but Seirin had held on. At the end of the first quarter, they still had a chance. Things only went downhill after that. It seemed that Kuroko had been too reliant on his low presence, and Akashi knew it. Kuroko had been sure that no matter what moves he pulled, he would stay as invisible as he’d always been. He’d been wrong. So, so wrong.

The first time his passes failed, he hadn’t thought much of it, only assumed that the others were starting to get used to him on the court. When everything Kuroko did was either blocked or intercepted, however, he knew something wasn’t right. It was the red haired captain that informed him of what had happened. 

“You see, Tetsuya, a shadow can’t live in the light. You’ve been learning how to dribble and shoot. Things that draw attention to you. By doing this, you’ve effectively killed your own skills. People notice you now.” He sounded so smug about this fact, as though he wasn’t crushing Kuroko with his words. “Why do you think I never taught you how to do more than pass? It would’ve made you more useful, and I was certainly capable of teaching you how, but you would’ve lost what made you unique. Without your low presence, you’re an average player at best.” Akashi turned around, ignoring Kuroko’s distress, he called back, “that’s why my own shadow will always be a better version than you.” Akashi’s words had burned him to his core, his only comfort was that his friend still had mismatched eyes. That his Akashi wouldn’t say such cruel things. 

Kagami had come over after that, practically dragging Kuroko behind him. “Don’t listen to him, you idiot, he’s just trying to mess with you.” Kuroko tried not to let it get to him, but it soon became glaringly obvious that Akashi hadn’t been lying. Every move Kuroko tried to pull was blocked, and he soon had to be pulled out of the game when he was becoming a hindrance to the team. 

After that point, morale was at an all-time low for Seirin. The point gap was growing at an alarming rate, and Rakuzan’s shadow showed Seirin what playing against Kuroko was like. In a desperate move, Kuroko was put back in the game at the start of the fourth quarter. It went just how he suspected it might. All of his shots and passes were blocked, most of which were by Rakuzan’s shadow, who was guarding him, probably done on purpose to crush Kuroko’s spirit. The final buzzer had gone off with Rakuzan scoring a last minute basket. Kuroko sank to his knees and was left to stare at the scoreboard and accept that Seirin had lost…..because of him. 

If he hadn’t been so selfish in wanting to learn how to shoot and dribble, then he wouldn’t have lost his ability to play basketball. Maybe they could’ve won if he hadn’t. 

He turned his head up from the floor and looked at those around him. The Rakuzan players were all smiling, celebrating their win. As if sensing his stare, Akashi turned his head to look at whoever was staring. Once he saw who it was, he smirked. Kuroko was quick to turn away. 

Seirin looked how he thought they would. They were all crying or at least, about to. This game was not just a loss, it was as though they were shown just how inferior of a team they actually were. Kiyoshi was crying, and Kuroko knew that this would be his last season because of his knee, he felt guilty that it had to end in a loss. Kagami, for once, did not seem to take this loss as a chance to improve. Akashi had seen to it, made it seem like he was so far ahead that trying to strive to the red heads level would be a waste of time. He knew that his team would not blame him for this loss, even though he felt that they should. If he hadn’t have been useless, there was a chance they could’ve won. 

Up in the stands, the rest of the Generation of Miracles were looking at the court with a hint of sadness, but Kuroko could tell that they had been expecting this outcome. To look at them be so unsurprised, it hurt. Did they not think that he could beat Akashi? That he at least had a fighting chance? Akashi wasn’t absolute, at least not this version of him. Although, it wasn’t much of his place to be upset, they were right. He lost. 

His eyes moved further up and saw his childhood friend, Ogiwara. He had come to the game to cheer on Kuroko. To forgive Kuroko for that awful middle school game that made Ogiwara quit basketball, the sport he loved. Now, his face was so disappointed. Kuroko hoped it wasn’t with him, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was. 

Suddenly, the room felt a lot more cramped. Kuroko needed to get out of there, already it was getting harder to breathe. He stood up and made his way towards the exit. No one noticed him leave even though he could no longer hide from them. 

He ended up in the locker room, and he made the decision to just go home on his own. He didn’t want to see anyone right now. Seirin would try to tell him that everything was okay, but it really wasn’t. They wouldn’t understand what this game really meant to him. Just as he was shrugging on his jacket, someone entered the locker room. 

“And where are you going, Tetsuya?” Akashi asked him. 

“Home,” Kuroko said shortly. He sat down on a bench to pull off his shoes, his back to the Rakuzan captain. 

“Why?” 

“Why does Akashi-kun care?” He shoved his shoes into his bag and pulled out his outdoor ones. 

“I would think you’d be with Seirin, considering how team-oriented you seem to be.” There was a hint of mocking to Akashi’s words. 

He couldn’t do this right now, he finished zipping up his bag before standing up and heading towards the door. Before he could make it out, a hand grabbed him roughly, making him stop. “Why are you so surprised, Tetsuya? Surely you didn’t actually expect to win, did you? Teamwork doesn’t make a mediocre team good. That’s why you should’ve listened to me when I told you to pick a decent school.” 

His words and his harsh grip reminded Kuroko just how much this wasn’t Akashi-kun. The real Akashi would constantly bug Kuroko about his poor diet, make Aomine apologize to girls for being rude, bring Murasakibara exotic treats from his father’s business trips, help Midorima with a particularly hard question on their homework, and tell Kise about a good place to hide from fangirls. He still threatened and punished those under his command, but never with the intent to harm. This wasn’t Akashi and so long as there was two colors in his eyes, it wouldn’t be. Sometimes Kuroko was scared that the real Akashi was gone. 

He let none of this show on the outside, carefully keeping his face a blank mask. “Please let go of me, Akashi-kun.” 

Akashi released him after looking into his eyes for a second, apparently finding what he was looking for. Kuroko pushed open the door when Akashi called out for him a second time. “Tetsuya?” 

Kuroko turned around, and for a second he could’ve sworn that he saw two red eyes before he blinked and the gold returned. “Goodbye.” Akashi said. 

Kuroko didn’t reply, only turned around and left. He made it outside with no incident. He didn’t remember much about the journey home, too lost in his thoughts. All he knew was that he made it to the small apartment that he lived in just as the sky lost its last bit of light and he went straight to his room. He curled up under the covers and finally he let the tears fall. \----------------------- 

The following week was spent in a daze. He couldn’t bring himself to care about anything. His phone was shoved under his bed somewhere because he didn’t want to see the worried phone calls and texts that would be on it, or maybe he was afraid that those calls and texts wouldn’t be there. Everything just felt so dull. He would never be able to play basketball again, he knew he had no talent in the sport other than being able to remain unseen, but that was gone. Maybe it wouldn’t feel like the end of the world next week, he hoped so at least.

There was a knocking at his door. Kuroko chose to ignore it. It became slightly harder when the knocking got louder, more insistent. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? 

When it became clear that the knocking would not cease, Kuroko forced himself away from his bed. He stood and almost lost his balance. It had been too long since he last got up. He made his way slowly down the hallway, having to stop twice. He had finally made it to the door, ready to tell the person on the other side to go away. He opened it. 

“Kise-kun?” Kuroko’s eyes widened, what was Kise doing here? 

Kise ignored him and stormed into the apartment. He immediately put a hand on Kuroko’s forehead. “Are you sick, you look sick? And you’re warm.” Kuroko was shoved into a wall, with Kise towering over him. 

“Kise-kun, please calm down.” Kuroko’s mind was still spinning. 

Kise seemed to realize what he had done. “Ah, sorry, Kurokocchi.” He did step back, but he didn’t stop his relentless questioning. “What happened to you, Kurokocchi?” 

Kuroko paused disbelievingly before slumping in resignation. “I’m fine Kise-kun.” 

“I may not be as smart as you, but I know that that’s a lie. You look terrible.” 

Was Kise actually being serious? Did he not realize how bad that final game was? “Could Kise-kun not guess what was wrong?” 

Kise actually flinched. “I know we were terrible at the end of last year, Kurokocchi, but I went to Seirin to apologize and you weren’t there. You can’t just skip school like that.” 

Kuroko stared at Kise in confusion. Why would Kise think he was still upset about middle school? That had been months ago and Kise had already apologized after their practice game, or he apologized as much as someone like Kise could. Also, what was that about not being at Seirin? They were on break. Surely even Kise would realize that with the empty school as a hint. “Kise-kun, Seirin is on break.” 

Now Kise looked confused. “Kurokocchi, Seirin started school last week and you haven’t even gone a day.” Kise’s expression turned worried. “Oh no! Did your fever mess with your mind?” He shoved Kuroko down the hallway. “Go shower and I’ll make soup, don’t worry Kurokocchi, I’ll make you better!” Kise called at him cheerfully, but he paused. “Unless, you need help in there.” He started to make his way down the hall as well. 

“No.” Kuroko stated firmly. “I’ll be fine, Kise-kun.” He would not have help in the shower from Kise, ever. 

Kise pouted a little but did turn back around. “So mean to reject me like that, Kurokocchi.” 

As Kuroko made his way down the hall, one thought was running through his mind. What was going on? Kise was acting like the last months hadn’t even happened. He walked into the bathroom, subtly flinching at how gross he looked, and showered quickly. When he got out, he went and got dressed before making his way back to Kise. 

From the week of neglect, he was not quick enough to stop Kise’s flying hug which sent them both to the ground. “Kurokocchi, you look so much better already!” 

Just before Kuroko could become seriously concerned about the lack of oxygen intake, Kise let go. “Your soup isn’t done, so go sit down while I finish.” 

Kuroko nodded but replied, “Kise-kun is going to let my kitchen burn down and then there will be nothing to finish.” And indeed there was a distinct smoky smell in the air. Kise screeched and ran back to the stove, moving the pan, and opened a small window so the smoke alarm wouldn’t go off. Kuroko left him to it, not seriously concerned about the chance of dying in a fire. 

Although he was terribly confused about what was going on, Kuroko wasn’t really alarmed until he saw the pillows sitting on the couch. Pillows, plural. Now he knew something was wrong. There used to be two pillows on the couch, until Nigou had chewed one of them beyond recognition and Kuroko had been forced to throw it out, leaving one pillow. He had never replaced and he doubted that someone had broken into his home to replace a pillow, so why was there two pillows? 

He thought back to a book that he had read a few weeks ago. The protagonist had ended up back in time and that entire situation was too similar to Kuroko’s current one for his liking. There was really only one way to know for sure. Kuroko ran to his room, not hearing the surprised shout from Kise. 

His room was an absolute disaster, but he didn’t care about that at the moment. He dove onto his bed and started flinging the pillows and sheets off of his bed. Where was his phone? Once his bed was destroyed and there was no phone, Kuroko hopped onto the floor and looked under his bed. There it was. He grabbed it and turned it on, a little surprised that it wasn’t dead. The date reflected back at him confirmed his theory. Oh no. 

He heard Kise call his name, but he couldn’t respond. This was wrong. The date was wrong. 

He felt Kise standing near him. “Kurokocchi?” 

Kuroko didn’t respond. He felt the phone being pulled out of his hands, and a part of him wanted to protest, but he made no move. He didn’t resist when Kise pulled at his arms, but Kuroko didn’t help him either. He was brought back to the couch and Kuroko couldn’t help but stare at the pillows. This was wrong wrong wrong. 

Kise left him at some point, but he couldn’t figure when that had happened. Suddenly a bowl of soup was set in front of him and he was encouraged to eat it. He did, but he didn’t even try to taste it. Kuroko didn’t even finish the bowl before pushing it away, and he ignored Kise’s protests. He could hear Kise try to talk to him, but Kuroko couldn’t process the words. 

It wasn’t until long after the soup had gone cold that Kuroko felt like he could talk once more. “When’s our practice game, Kise-kun?” He had to know for sure. 

Kise actually jumped. “One week from today.” 

That meant none of the last months had never happened. Nobody could remember the memories Kuroko could. The good and the bad. But it also meant that last game hadn’t happened. If he was truly back in time, then he could change things, couldn’t he? “Thank you for worrying, Kise-kun, but I’m alright now.” He wasn’t alright, far from it, but there was a goal he could work towards, and that was enough to keep him from going insane. 

Kise stayed around for another hour or so, probably to make sure that Kuroko wasn’t going to fall back into the catatonic state that Kise had seen him in. In that hour, the two spoke about many things, though Kise would steer any conversation away from basketball. Kuroko appreciated that. 

Once he looked at his watch and realized how late it was, Kise made his way out. “Remember, you have to text me every day and make sure you eat, Kurokocchi.” 

“I will.” He watched Kise leave until he was no longer in view.

\---------------------

When Kuroko had first learned about the reality of traveling back in time, he had panicked. He didn’t know why it happened or how long it would last, but he knew one thing. If he was going to make it through with his sanity, he needed to accept the situation as best he could and move on. He had a chance to change what had already happened, and so he would take it. 

Kuroko went to school the next day. He was glad that he had already been through the first week of school otherwise he would be very much behind. He was still not entirely used to the situation and had left the house in his winter clothes before noticing how warm it was. 

He went to school early to explain his week long absence, unsurprised that it went very much unnoticed. He spent the remainder of the time before classes started staring out the window. 

So lost in thought, Kuroko was startled by a large thud in the chair next to him. There sitting next to him was Kagami Taiga. Kagami then shoved his bag on the desk right in front of Kuroko. It was a little depressing that Kagami was so unused to him that he couldn’t even see him. 

“Excuse me. Can you please move your stuff?” 

There was a brief moment of silence before a shriek resounded throughout the classroom. Before Kuroko would’ve inwardly laughed, but he could only sigh. 

“When did you get here?” Kagami shouted, pointing accusingly at Kuroko. 

“I’ve been here the whole time, Kagami-kun.” Kuroko said blandly. 

“Oh.” Kagami sat down, then paused. “How did you know my name?” 

Kuroko blanked. He needed an excuse for knowing Kagami’s name. “The teacher told me who my neighbor would be. Unless you aren’t Kagami Taiga?” Ask a question to deflect attention. 

Kagami calmed down at the made up excuse. He also moved his stuff off of Kuroko’s desk, but made no other attempt at conversation. Class started not long after and while Kuroko spent the time making up his week’s worth of work, Kagami was taking a nap. Kuroko’s only source of amusement was Kagami’s muttering. He seemed to be dreaming about basketball, what else. He almost snorted when Kagami started to talk about the blond bastard. 

Classes seemed to drag on, but eventually the day was over and all of the students made their ways toward their different clubs. He and Kagami were the last two in the room since they were located in the back. As Kuroko finished packing up his stuff, he noticed Kagami turn towards him. 

“Hey, some blond was looking for you yesterday. I don’t know what he wanted, though.” 

“Thank you for telling me, Kagami-kun. Kise-kun found me.” Kuroko told him in a monotone. 

Kagami hesitated for a second but did open his mouth again. “Hey since you know the blond bastard, does that mean you know the other Miracles?”  
Kuroko silently sighed. “Yes, I know them.” 

Kagami seemed to lose all of his hesitance. “So, what are they like? I’m going to beat them all in basketball!” 

“The others are very different from Kise-kun. You have no chance of beating them….alone.” Kuroko left before he had to face Kagami’s anger at his statement. 

Kuroko didn’t get nervous about much, but he walked down towards the gym, he could feel an uncomfortable pit in his stomach. None of his inner turmoil showed on his face as he opened the doors and looked around the room for Riko. He found her sitting on the bleachers, watching the others practice and made his way over. 

“Hey, do you think the doors opened by themselves?” He heard Koganei call out from the court. 

He was stood in front of Riko, but she still had not noticed him. “Excuse me.” 

There was a shriek loud enough to break glass and all activity in the gym stopped to turn towards the noise. “Since when have you been here?” 

“I have been here a few minutes.” It had really only been 15 seconds at most, but nobody was going to call him out on it. 

Before Riko could say anything else, the doors burst open. “Sorry I’m late…” Kagami stopped when he realized nobody was paying any attention to him. 

“Riko-san may I talk to you outside?” Kuroko asked. 

Riko seemed to shake herself out of whatever stupor she was in. “Ah, sure?” She turned back towards the court. “And the rest of you, what do you think you’re doing just standing there? Start running laps, and if you stop even once while I’m gone, I’ll know! And Kagami, don’t think I didn’t notice that you were late, I want you running twice as fast!” The rest of the players paled and immediately started to do what they were told. 

Riko turned to Kuroko with an expectant look and made her way outside. Kuroko let his lips twitch a little before following. Once outside, Riko stared at him. 

“Ah, Riko-san, I would like to join the basketball team.” He got right to the point. 

Her lips twitched downwards. “Why didn’t you sign up last week?” 

“I haven’t been here.” 

Her eyes lit up in recognition. “Ah, so you’re Kuroko! Kise Ryouta mentioned when he came here yesterday!” Then more to herself, “He wasn’t kidding when he said you were hard to notice.” She then turned back to stare at Kuroko. “If Kise knows you, does that mean you went to middle school together?” 

“We did.” 

“And you played basketball at Teikou?” 

“Yes.” 

“But did you play in games?” 

“Yes.” 

“Take off your shirt.” 

Kuroko complied, already knowing what Riko wanted. He held back a wince when she eyed him skeptically and very much in a disappointed manner. “I’m sorry Kuroko-kun, but I had to turn in the official membership forms yesterday. There’s nothing I can do.” 

Kuroko felt a pang in his heart. What was he going to do? “I understand.” He turned around and walked away. 

“Kuroko?” He turned. “I’m sorry.” 

He didn’t respond, only made his way home. When he made it inside his doors, Kuroko did something decidedly un-Kuroko like. He pulled off his book bag and threw it in a fit of rage. Of course it landed harmlessly on the couch. Kuroko sank down to floor. What was the point of being sent back in time if he couldn’t change what he wanted to? If things turned out worse? He sat there thinking about what exactly to do next. It was a depressingly short list. He could either go beg Riko for a spot on the team or just give up on basketball for the next year. He knew the first option wouldn’t work and so all that was left for him to do was wait for next year to change to Miracles. The thought left him feeling guilty. His friends would hate basketball for another year because he was too busy moping to realize what had happened. Although, to be more optimistic, that also meant that he had a year to improve his basketball. He wouldn’t have to rely on such flashy moves if he could improve. Or if he did, if he improved his fundamentals, then he wouldn’t be so useless when his invisibility ran out. He went to bed resigned and determined at the same time. 

The next day passed in slowly because no longer was there something to look forward to. When the school day ended, Kuroko found himself heading towards the gym. He shook his head and made his way back to his apartment. He sat there for the rest of the night, alone with his thoughts about this new future. 

The following day went in much the same manner, or it would’ve had Kise not shown up again. “Kurokocchi! Have you been eating like I told you to?” Once again, Kise had shoved his way into Kuroko’s apartment, uninvited. 

“Hello, Kise-kun. Please get off of me now." 

Kise scratched his head in embarrassment before getting up from the spot where he had tackled Kuroko. “Ah, sorry, Kurokocchi! But I was so excited to see you! I wanted to come yesterday but I had a modelling job and didn’t get home until late. You look so much better, although you’re too skinny. Anyways, aren’t you excited for our game this week? I am! I told Kasamatsu-senpai all about you, but he didn’t care! And then he kicked me! He’s so mean!....” 

Kise would talk forever if Kuroko let him. “Kise-kun, I’m not playing basketball this year.” The thought was getting a little easier to accept when he repeated it like a mantra for two days straight. He hoped that would be enough to get Kise to stop talking for a while. 

It worked, for three seconds. “WHAT? Kurokocchi, you have to play! You love basketball!” 

“Maybe, but I missed a whole week of school and as such I am not allowed to participate in any clubs.” Not that he’d actually checked with any other clubs, but Kise didn’t need to know. 

“That’s not fair!” Kise screeched as tears started to well up in his eyes. Kuroko didn’t even bother to try and stop Kise from tackling him again. “Basketball is going to be so boring without you! What will the others say?” 

Kuroko didn’t think they’d say much honestly. At this point in time, they didn’t care much about him, too self-absorbed. Too focused on crushing each other in basketball. He told Kise as much, and Kise winced. “But Kurokocchi, I won’t ever get to see you!” 

Kuroko was running out of air and was getting truly desperate at this point. “We can still see each other… outside of basketball” He said, hoping that he wouldn’t regret his words. 

The way Kise lit up was a tad worrying. “Really, Kurokocchi?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I knew we were best friends! What are we going to do, though? I could bring you to a photoshoot with me, that’d be fun, or maybe we could….” 

“Kise-kun, please stop talking.” 

Kise wilted for a moment, and was just about to open his mouth when his phone rang. Kise looked at the caller ID and his eyes widened comically. “I’M LATE!” He screamed. “Sorry Kurokocchi, I’ve got to go. I’ll text you!” And Kise left, running out the door. Kuroko looked down at his rumpled appearance and then at the open door before shrugging. For Kise to come and go like that was not as uncommon as it should’ve been. 

With Kise gone, Kuroko turned back to the papers that littered his coffee table. He had first come to the conclusion that since he had quite a few months before second year started, he’d have to train in his own time. Then, he had written down everything he knew and what he needed to work on. He’d been useless when his invisibility had left him, and although he had decided not to use his flashier moves, he wouldn’t put anything past Akashi and so he would work on his basics. This would be harder than it sounded, Kuroko knew. He was average on his best days and dreadful on his worst. It was a good thing that Kuroko was no stranger to hard work.

\------------------------------

He watched as the ball rolled away from him. How was it that he was able to do a Phantom Drive, but was unable to stand still and dribble the ball? With a barely audible sigh, Kuroko went to go retrieve the ball. 

He watched helplessly as the ball completely missed the hoop. 

He woke up on the ground, confused. What had happened? Oh yes, the ball had rebounded off of the hoop and hit him in the face. At least it wasn’t another air ball. 

\---------------------------- 

A week later, Kuroko was walking down the hallway before class when he heard someone who was unmistakably Riko. “Has anybody seen Kuroko Tetsuya? Anybody?” She sounded almost, scared? That was very unusual. Kuroko drifted through the crowd, towards the noise. He stopped right in front of the frazzled looking girl. 

“Hello, Riko-san.” 

He expected the scream, but the others in the hallway did not. The result was a lot of startled people. When Riko finally calmed down, she gave Kuroko a very obviously fake smile. “Oh, Kuroko-kun, I didn’t see you there. May I talk to you?” 

Kuroko gave her a nod and she led him to an empty classroom. “Kuroko-kun, I made a mistake when I told you that I couldn’t let you in the basketball club. I was wrong, and would be very happy if you joined our team.” 

Kuroko immediately knew that something was wrong. Riko was not someone to change her mind. Ever. That, paired with the nervous looks she kept giving him reminded Kuroko of a scene from one of his favorite mystery novels. “Riko-san I thank you for the offer, but I must decline.” Kuroko would actually want nothing more than to accept her offer, but this wasn’t right. Riko looked even more nervous at that, so he continued. “And you can tell whoever threatened you that I said no.” 

He left after that, apologizing for the trouble he caused. He hadn’t even made it to his next class before his phone was vibrating in his pocket. 

'Why?' 

Kuroko sighed and hit the reply button. 

'You know why.' 

He didn’t wait for an answer before sending another text to a different person. 

'Kise-kun, please learn to be quiet.' 

As he hit send, the warning bell rang. Kuroko pocketed his phone before hurrying to class. It was more out of principle since the teacher wouldn’t notice him missing.


	2. One part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some progress is made, and some old faces make their appearance.

It was pretty late to be getting visitors, Kuroko noted. But the insistent knock on his door told him that somebody wanted to see him rather urgently. Out of everybody it could’ve been, Kise was both the most and least surprising. Least because Kise was the only one that Kuroko had regular contact with these days, and most because Kise didn’t knock. Ever. But here they were.

Kise looked sad. A real sort of sad and not the fake sad that he showed every fifteen minutes. “Kise-kun?” Kuroko questioned.

“I…lost.” It sounded much closer to a question than a statement, but it still caught Kuroko off guard. He knew that it was the day when Seirin played Kaijo, but he honestly hadn’t expected Kise’s team to lose. The first time the two teams played, Seirin had only won through the combined efforts of Kuroko and Kagami. Did that mean that Seirin had never needed Kuroko? Had he been holding them back? His thoughts were quickly starting to spiral and he had to force himself to stop thinking about it. He was being selfish. Kise needed him right now; he could have his little crisis at a later date.

“Come inside, it is cold outside,” Kuroko demanded. Kise did not hesitate to follow the order, and Kuroko led the other to the couch, setting aside the book he’d been reading so it wouldn’t be sat on. 

Kuroko rarely started conversations, and this time was no exception. He sat patiently and waited for the other to speak first. He didn’t have to wait long, Kise was never one to be able to sit in silence. “I lost, Kurokocchi. To your school, and you weren’t even on the team. I lost to a bunch of nobodies.”

Kuroko politely ignored the nobodies comment. “And?” he asked.

Kise looked a bit startled, as if he were expecting Kuroko to agree with him about the great tragedy of losing. “I don’t lose. Not to anybody.” 

“Loss is simply a part of basketball, Kise-kun. Nobody wins all of the time.” Kuroko said. His mind automatically produced an image of the one person who didn’t seem to fit that narrative, but he quickly banished the thought. That person would lose, it would just take some time.

“You don’t understand. I. Don’t. Lose.”

Kuroko did not appreciate being talked to as though he were a child. “You just did.”

“Then what’s even the point of basketball if I can just lose?” Kise was getting rather worked up.

“Did you have fun?”

“I lost!”

Kuroko sighed. “That’s not what I asked. I asked you if you had fun. Did you enjoy playing the game?”

Kise paused to think about it. “I guess…Seirin has this one player who actually stood toe to toe with me for a while.” Kise sounded surprised by his own admission of enjoying the game.

“Then what does it matter if you lost?”

“Winning is everything.” He didn’t sound completely sure.

“Is having fun not something?”

There was another pause before Kise flopped himself against the back of the couch in an ungraceful manner. “You’re too philosophical sometimes, Kurokochhi.”

Kuroko’s lips twitched. Kise hadn’t denied what he said as he would’ve even a week ago. And while Kuroko could see he didn’t have the other completely convinced, it was a start. Kuroko couldn’t expect him to have a complete change of heart because of one game, he wasn’t so unrealistic. But Kise would in time learn just as he had the first time. Satisfied, Kuroko picked up his book once more to let the other sit with his thoughts.

He had just gotten to the end of his current chapter when Kise spoke once more. “Kurokocchi?”

Kuroko looked up.

“Thanks.” 

Kuroko wasn’t entirely sure just what Kise was thanking him for, it could really be any number of things, but he nodded nevertheless. “You could buy me a vanilla milkshake in gratitude.”

Kise only laughed.

After the late night visit, Kuroko didn't really notice anything different with his friend; Kise still visited him frequently and was always buzzing around with a constant energy that seemed exhausting to keep up. But if Kuroko were hard pressed to find a change, he’d have to say that Kise seemed lighter in a way that he hadn’t been since Kuroko first met him. His excitement was a little more genuine than it had been, and his eyes shined with light. It was a nice change to see, and it gave Kuroko hope that things could be changed even if he couldn’t play basketball just yet.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

Kuroko could feel himself getting depressed. It was the start of the Interhigh Preliminaries, and he couldn’t play. Kise had seemed to notice his mood and also the reason for it and had subtlety tried to cheer Kuroko up. But of course Kuroko knew what he was doing since subtlety and Kise were not synonymous in any way. It was still a nice gesture, and so Kuroko didn’t call the blond out for it.

And now it was the day where Seirin would play Seiho hopefully followed by Shutoku. Kuroko had been following the tournament carefully and was relieved to see Seirin winning their games because no matter what, Seirin was his team. But none of that had been remotely close to the stress he was feeling in that moment. The first schools they had played were relatively easy opponents, but Seiho was the start of the long line of the teams that had the potential to beat Seirin.

“Kurokocchi?” Kuroko heard Kise calling from the chair he’d taken up residence in. Kise had started showing up on most of the days where he had time, but he might as well have not been for all the attention Kuroko was paying him. And a small part of him felt bad for that, but the larger part of him was too occupied with his thoughts. “Hey.” And then there were hands grabbing his, and Kuroko gave a slight start. When had Kise moved?

Kuroko looked down at his lap and realized what Kise had done. It seemed as though Kuroko had been digging his nails into his palms if the deep red crescent shaped marks were any indication. Kise was trying to stop him from hurting himself.

“What’s wrong?” Kise asked him sounding very worried. And Kuroko understood why: it was extremely unusual for him to show his worries in such a physical manner. 

Kuroko removed his hands from the blonds’ carefully. “I am sorry for worrying you, it is nothing.” 

Kise let out a little frustrated noise, but he stepped back and allowed Kuroko his pathetic excuse. And Kuroko mentally sighed. There were very few people that could make him feel regret for his evasive actions, but Kise Ryouta was right at the top of the list. “I am just a little worried, that is all.”

“About what?” And that was the question, wasn’t it? How was Kuroko supposed to explain that he had somehow time travelled and was now worried about the future being different than what had originally happened without sounding insane? The answer was that he couldn’t.

“Basketball.”

“But you don’t eve-“ Kise shut himself up, but they both knew what he was going to say. You don’t even play basketball. Which might’ve been true, but it still stung. “I’m sorr-“

Kuroko interrupted him. “It’s fine.” Because Kise hadn’t meant harm, Kise just didn’t know when to stop talking sometimes. 

“Well, if you’re worried about basketball, how about we go watch a game so you can get your mind off of whatever is bothering you? Midorimacchi is playing today.”

Oh, if only he knew the irony of that statement. But Kuroko gave the idea a thought. If he went and watched, he wouldn’t have to keep renewing the blogs he was following for information. “Okay.”

Kise brightened up at the agreement. “Alright well they don’t play in the finals for a while, because two other games have to happen first, but we can go watch them in the quarter finals?”

“Okay.” Kuroko agreed. And that was that. The two grabbed their things and headed out.

On the walk to the bus station, Kise suddenly spoke up. “I wonder what Midorimacchi’s luck is today?” Because they both knew that even if they didn’t believe in horoscopes, Midorima did and there was no doubt that his performance would be affected if his luck was poor.

Kuroko just hummed in a semi-questioning tone and Kise took that as enough of an agreement to pull out his phone and load up the day’s predictions. “Well, good news for Midorimacchi, he’s got the number one spot.”

Kuroko nodded and absently wondered if it had been the same the first time. 

The two companions made the rest of the way to the stadium hosting the Interhigh Tournament with Kise chattering about this and that with very little input on Kuroko’s part.

The inside of the building was chaotic as it seemed the pair had made it right before the quarter final games started. Kuroko felt Kise grab his hand and his lips twitched at the thought of Kise being afraid of losing him in the crowd. The walked towards the entrance of the actual courts when Kuroko turned to head up a staircase. He soon felt resistance from Kise. “Kurokocchi? Those stairs will take you to the other game, we have to keep going to watch Shutoku.”

But Kuroko was adamant. “Midorima-kun is not going to lose, this game will be more interesting.”

Kise considered this. “You’re right.” And he didn't argue as Kuroko led them up the stairs. They sat fairly far back where there would be less people because Kuroko had never appreciated the crowds. Kise didn’t complain.

It wasn’t long until the teams took their places on the court. And it was certainly odd to watch his team at such a distance, more so to see them play without him. But it didn’t hurt to watch, he only felt sad that he wasn’t a part of it. 

The game started off at a quick pace. And Kuroko could see that Seirin was having problems as Seiho set up their famous defense. Every pass was stolen and every attempt to pass through their lines was firmly stopped. Kagami was again racking up fouls like there was no tomorrow. There was also another problem with Kagami that hadn’t been present the first time around. While he could see that Kagami respected his team, he was playing by himself. He didn’t pass the ball unless he absolutely had to, and would get frustrated at everyone’s mistakes. It was troubling.

On a lighter note, watching a game with Kise was just as entertaining as Kuroko remembered it being. He liked to tell Kuroko things that were happening as if Kuroko couldn’t see for himself. Aomine used to find the behavior annoying, but Kuroko thought the way Kise said things was amusing. “Did you see that shot, Kurokochhi? He was being guarded by two players and blew through them as if it were nothing! Of course, I could do it too, but still I like that guy!” He would switch from that behavior to a completely serious analytical tone so quickly that Kuroko felt like he had whiplash. “Seiho is using their martial arts based defense to their advantage. Seirin will have to break through soon or this game is over before the half.” And then he’d also point out things completely random. “Do you see his shoes, Kurokocchi? I had to model for that brand once and there was this guy there who said I didn’t look enough like a basketball player. Can you believe it?” It was a nice distraction.

Seirin finally managed to break through at the beginning of the second quarter, but they were still having problems. It was only the fact that Seirin also had a good defense that stopped Seiho from running away with the game. The score was only 16-19 in the third quarter with Seiho in the lead. Five minutes later, Kagami was pulled out after receiving his fourth foul. With him gone, the game kicked back up and both team’s started scoring left and right. Even Kise was impressed. “At the pace they’re going, they’ll all pass out before the game is over.”

The fourth quarter started with Seiho still leading 73-65. Both teams seemed to go even more into overdrive if that was possible. But Kuroko watched as Seiho steadily kept their lead. At 30 seconds, there was almost no chance for Seirin, but Kuroko hoped for a miracle. 

He didn’t get one. Seirin made a last second shot, but it wasn’t enough. 84-73. Seirin’s loss. 

Kuroko watched as Seirin hung their heads. This game had been important to them and they lost. It was a devastating blow. Kuroko was tempted to head down there and console them, but he knew they wouldn’t appreciate comfort from a stranger.

“Kurokocchi, you okay?” Kuroko looked over and saw the concern in other’s eyes again.

“I am fine, I just think I’m going to head home.” Because there was no point in staying now.

Kise threw one glance to the court before nodding and standing up. “Okay, we can leave.”

“You can stay, Kise-kun.” It was obvious that he wanted to.

“No, it’s okay, I don’t really want to stay either.”

Liar. Kise was obsessed with the other miracles. He liked to compare his own progress to theirs to see how he stacked up. It wasn’t a behavior Kuroko particularly approved of, but he didn’t actively discourage it either. “It is okay if you want to stay. I will make it home just fine.”

There was indecisiveness and two more glances towards the court before Kise replied. “Are you sure?”

“I will be just fine, Kise-kun.”

Kise nodded, but pinned Kuroko with a serious look. “Alright, but call me when you get home, okay?”

Kuroko responded in the affirmative before getting out of his seat and heading towards the exit. He got out of the building when he was suddenly hit by a memory. And so, instead of heading towards the bus, Kuroko walked in the opposite direction.

A while later and it was getting dark and Kuroko was getting a little concerned that Kise might actually be the first to make it home. And if that happened, Kuroko wasn’t sure what drastic measures the other would take. But he wouldn’t go home just yet, there was something he needed. The problem was that he couldn’t remember where to find it. It was an alley, he was sure, but the problem was that the last fifteen places he looked in looked exactly the same as every other alley. It was a frustrating experience. He was beginning to think that this event was not the same as the first time when he spotted it. A little cardboard box sat in a puddle. The box wiggled and Kuroko couldn’t stop the smile as he approached. “Hello, Nigou.” He greeted fondly before picking the little dog up that was staring at him and finally headed home.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

Something about the Interhigh lit a fire in Kuroko and he continued towards improving his basketball with more fervor than ever. It was slow going, but he definitely saw some improvement. He could dribble the ball consistently with his right hand and when he shot the ball, it sometimes went in as opposed to never. As far as improving his stamina, it was pretty much hopeless. He also saw that in the time since the beginning of the school year, Kuroko returned back to his usual weight, no longer looking like a skeleton. So, all in all, improvements were not happening as quickly as he hoped.

Kuroko sighed as the ball he shot smashed off the backboard and rolled into a nearby bush. The particular court he was using was not one that was well cared for. It was out of the way behind some trees that were packed together. Only a few people even knew it existed. It was the seemingly perfect place to practice, except it was very overgrown. There was a large crack running down the middle of the court where roots had broken through. The court was lined on one side by thorny bushes, so losing the ball in that direction meant there was a poor chance you’d get it back without either yourself or the ball being covered in thorns. Kuroko himself was using it only because he couldn’t use the more public courts by himself without getting pushed off from lack of notice.

So, he was surprised that as he was carefully reaching for his ball, he heard someone make their way towards him. He was less surprised and more frightened as that someone grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him up. The mystery person spun him around, but did not let go of him.

“What the fuck Tetsu?” It was Aomine.

Less frightened but still rather wary, Kuroko replied. “Hello Aomine-kun.”

His words did nothing to calm his former light down. If anything, he seemed to grow more enraged. “You just quit basketball, huh? Then what was all that shit about not giving up from you last year?”

Kuroko didn’t say anything, could only stare at his best friend. He had been expecting this conversation earlier in all honesty.

“Satsuki’s been bawling her eyes out over you. Bugging me about it too, saying it’s all my fault. You know how annoying that is?”

Ah, there it was. He berated himself for hoping that maybe Aomine actually cared. What he fooled himself into believing was hurt, was nothing more than annoyance.

Kuroko still did not answer, it wouldn’t do him any good anyways. Not when Aomine was like this.

When his continued silence, Aomine let go off him, maybe a bit too harshly, and Kuroko landed on the ground. “Weak.” Aomine sneered before walking away.

Kuroko sat there in silence long after the other was gone. He didn’t cry, you had to feel something to cry. Kuroko felt nothing, he was numb. He didn’t know why the confrontation had hurt as badly as it did. It was not the first time Aomine used harsh words nor was it the first time the other had rejected him. Maybe because it was that Kuroko thought they’d gotten passed this. Maybe this confirmed that the person who tossed him away like trash wasn’t the same one who taught him how to shoot a ball.

He might’ve stayed there all night if it wasn’t for Nigou, who started to whine at him, letting his owner know he was hungry. With what seemed like monumental effort, Kuroko stood up and started the trek home, forgetting about the ball that sat in the bushes.

The next morning, Kuroko woke up to a very loud yell. “Kurokocchi!” Kuroko groaned, it was Saturday, Kise never showed up on Saturdays, and he’d been so busy since Interhigh that Kuroko didn’t think that the pattern would change. Saturdays also meant it was his day to sleep in. But the sunlight peering through the window confirmed that it was very early. Too early. A dip on his bed told him that his wake up call had made it into his room. 

“Kise-kun, how did you get into my house?”

“Through the power of friendship!”

“More like the power of breaking and entering.”

“Kurokocchi!”

Kuroko just wanted to go back to sleep. “Why are you here?” 

“We’re going to go do something today, Kurokocchi!” Kise enthused.

Kuroko knew that he never agreed to such a thing, but pointing it out to the other would get him nowhere. Kise was most likely still worried from his sudden disappearance at the Interhigh; Kuroko wanted to be irritated, but he found himself warmed by the other’s concern. “Okay.”

There was a thump as Kise fell off the bed. “Really? You’re agreeing?” Kuroko might’ve been spending more time with Kise, but they still hardly left Kuroko’s apartment.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“Ah, Kurokocchi!”

Kuroko wanted to laugh at the other’s face, but it was still too early for such a thing. “Kise-kun, please leave so I can get dressed.” 

“Okay, just you wait, we’re going to have so much fun today!” And with that, Kise practically bounced out of the room. 

Once he was gone, Kuroko let out a breath. He really didn’t have to desire or energy to get up, but if he didn’t Kise would back. With that thought, he carefully pushed himself off the mattress. Perhaps it was for the better, he decided. He’d done enough moping to last a lifetime. He fully stepped out of bed and shivered at the loss of warmth before heading over to the dresser. Before he had the chance to search for a clean shirt, the door was thrown open again. 

“KUROKOCCHI WHEN DID YOU GET A DOG!”

It was several minutes before the ringing in his ears stopped and another minute before Kuroko could process the question. “I found him. Please use your inside voice.”

That seemed to tone Kise down but only a little. “He’s so cute! He looks like you too! Do you two wear matching outfits?”

“Please leave.” 

Kise seemed to realize what he had just done and gave a sheepish smile. “Ah, sorry!” And he dashed back out of the room.

Kuroko shook his head before getting ready and heading to the living room before Kise broke Nigou with his enthusiasm.

Kise had himself sprawled out on the floor with Nigou by his head. He was cooing and petting the dog, and Nigou preened at the treatment. “Kise-kun you’re going to make my dog spoiled.”

“And he’d deserve it, he’s the best dog. What’s his name?”

“Nigou.”

Kise looked up at Kuroko before breaking out into peals of laughter. “That’s perfect!” The laughter did not stop and Kuroko was starting to feel mildly offended.

“Are we leaving?”

Kise managed to calm himself down. “Okay, I’m done.” He looked over to Nigou regretfully. “If I’d known about you, I would’ve made plans to go somewhere you could come.”

“Nigou will be fine for a few hours.”

“Ah, I suppose.” Kise gave Nigou a few last pets before pulling himself off of the floor. “Are you ready?”

Considering Nigou had woken him up before the sun had risen to take him outside, there was nothing Kuroko needed to do. “Yes.”

“Well then let’s go.” Kise pulled him along, and Kuroko was really hoping it wouldn’t become a habit.

They had only made it down the street before Kise spun around. “I woke you up, that means you haven’t had breakfast yet.” He started to lead them in the opposite direction. “I know this place that’s close by, we can go there.”

“I’m not very hungry.” Kuroko said.

“Nonsense! Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you can’t just skip it.”

And Kuroko left it at that, knowing any argument would be pointless. Ever since Kise found him all skeleton-like, he did his best to ensure that Kuroko ate three meals a day no matter the blue haired boy’s opinion on the issue.

Kise led them a few blocks away until they were in front of a modern looking restaurant. It was nice, and so was the inside. It was pretty busy for so early in the morning, which led Kuroko to believe it was very popular. Thankfully, there were still tables open and the two were able to snag one. Looking over the menu, Kuroko found that the food looked good, if a little expensive, but that was to be expected when dining out with Kise. A waitress made her way over soon after to take their order, and then it was just the two of them once again.

“So, aren’t you going to ask me what we’re doing today?” Kise teased.

“Would you tell me if I did?”

“Nope.” Kise laughed. “Sorry, Kurokocchi, you’re just going to have to wait and see!”

Kuroko wasn’t going to point out that he was not the one who asked in the first place.

Their food was quick to arrive and Kuroko would admit that it was delicious. That did not change the fact that he was not hungry.

“Come on, you haven’t even eaten half.”

And he’d only eaten that much to appease the blond. “I am not hungry.”

“Just one more bite,” Kise pleaded.

“I will explode,” Kuroko informed him.

Thankfully Kise relented otherwise Kuroko was sure he would’ve actually thrown up.

After Kise finished his food, there was a small argument about who would be paying for his half eaten meal. “It’s my food.”

“But you didn’t even eat it so that means I should pay for it.”

“That doesn’t actually make sense.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?”

“No.”

“I’ll scream.”

“No.”

“ATTENTION EVERYONE, MY FRIEND KUROKO-“

Kuroko let Kise pay for the food.

The streets were starting to get busier when they exited the restaurant, but Kise didn’t pay any attention as he continued to lead Kuroko through the city.

Kuroko noticed the problem begin when he saw multiple heads do a double take. This was closely followed by the whispers. Pointing was the next step. And it really escalated when a few brave camera flashes went off. 

The thing about Kise was that he was famous. The problem with that was the fact that Kise tended to forget what being famous and going out in public caused. How Kise could forget about the literal mob that occurred every time Kise left the house was beyond Kuroko. But this, and the no small streak of vanity in the blond, led to Kise not even attempting to disguise himself in public. 

“KISE!” 

“KISE, OVER HERE!”

“KISE TAKE MY PICTURE!”

“KISE, MARRY ME!”

Kuroko wasn’t too sure as to how that last one would play out as the only thing the two seemed to have in common was how loud they could make their voices. But that was beside the point. The point was that Kuroko and Kise were being crowded on all sides, and Kuroko was not enjoying himself one bit. Using his misdirection, Kuroko slipped out of the crowd. No doubt Kise would be a little too preoccupied to notice his absence for at least a little longer.

He made his way over to a conveniently placed bench across the street that still allowed him to see the sea of fangirls. While waiting, Kuroko took up watching the people pass by. It was one of his favorite hobbies; he liked to see if he could pick out where the people were headed and what they were planning on doing there.

The man in the nice suit across the street, for instance, was most likely headed towards a meeting and was running late. That was unfortunate as he was going to be delayed by the mob of teenagers. The woman twenty feet behind him was only on a leisurely stroll and had no particular destination in mind. The two people headed in Kuroko’s general direction were out shopping, or at least the girl was. It seemed as though she had dragged the boy against his will. Also….oh, that wasn’t good. 

Kuroko did not hesitate in getting off the bench and headed in the opposite direction of the two. There was a crowd of students ten feet in front of him, and he lightly picked up his pace so it would seem as though he was just straying a little behind. Kuroko kept his head down as he walked, trying his hardest not to be noticed. He wouldn’t have to worry if it were anyone else, but one of those two had Kuroko radar that had yet to be wrong.

With this thought in mind, Kuroko ducked inside a nearby coffee shop. He didn’t drink coffee; he didn’t even like it, but he would have to order unless he wanted to be kicked out. He ordered the cheapest drink on the menu and paid for it. Just as he was getting his change, the door opened. He didn’t turn around, just calmly accepted the change before stepping to the side to let the person behind him order. He used the metal surface of the straw holder to confirm it was the people he was trying to avoid. He waited until they had started to scan the tables to make his exit. His hand was on the door when-

“Tetsuya.”

Why had he used his real name to order his drink? This was why he wasn’t a spy. 

In his second of hesitation, he was spotted. “Tetsu-kun!” Momoi Satsuki cried out happily.

He could leave, he decided. He could be out the door before they caught up. But the whole point was to avoid them, now that he was seen he’d have to face them. It’d hurt Momoi’s feelings to do anything else. With a hidden reluctance, Kuroko turned around and accepted his drink. He turned back to the pair. “Hello, Momoi-san, Aomine-kun.”

“Tetsu-kun, I didn’t know you drink coffee.” Momoi looked confused, after she pulled back from the hug she had engulfed him in. She was right to be confused considering she stalked him as a hobby.

“It’s a new development.” As if to prove his point, Kuroko took a sip and tried not to gag. It actually wouldn’t be too bad if he added approximately three pounds of sugar.

Aomine didn’t look like he planned on saying anything, but instead was choosing to scowl at Kuroko. Momoi either didn’t notice the tension or was pretending not to notice because she led them all to table tucked into the far corner of the café to sit down.

“So, Tetsu-kun, what are you doing out here today?”

There was no reason for him to lie, but he felt like he needed to. The problem was that he was a terrible liar. “I’m not sure.”

Even Aomine stopped his glare to look confused. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Language.” Momoi snapped at him as she punched him on the arm with considerable force if the pained look on Aomine’s face was any indication.

Kuroko interrupted before any fight could take place. “What are you two doing today?”

Momoi seemed overjoyed that Kuroko was interested. “Me and Aomine-kun are going shopping!” 

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t force me to come.” Aomine grumbled.

There was a noticeable silence that took over as they ran out of things to say. It was just as bad as Kuroko had been anticipating. He looked at the two across from him as he took another sip from his coffee. Momoi was fidgeting, looking unsure as to what to say. Aomine looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. These two were some of his best friends not too long ago and now a conversation seemed too monumental a task. Being with them used to be as easy as breathing, but now Kuroko could’ve sworn he was drowning. 

Just before it became too much, Momoi spoke up again. “Tetsu-kun, did you really quit basketball?” 

Kuroko took a deep breath, and focused on his answer. “No. I was sick at the start of the year and missed the first week of school. By the time I came back it was too late to join a club. I will be back next year.”

The relief coming from the pink haired girl was palpable. “I knew you wouldn’t quit! You never were the type to quit!” She came over to his side of the table to give him a hug. “I was so worried Tetsu-kun!”

“I am fine, Momoi-san.” Because they both knew what had really concerned her.

“Hey, are we doing something today, or are you just going to hang off him all day?”

“Be quiet, Aomine-kun. Don’t act like you’re busy doing anything today; you’re too lazy for that.”

Aomine huffed and turned away. Kuroko couldn’t stop his smile, it was refreshing to hear Momoi yelling at Aomine; he’d missed it.  
But despite her demands of patience, Momoi did let go of Kuroko. “I suppose we’d better get going. Unless you want to come?” She looked at him hopefully.

“Sorry, I have something I have to do.” Speaking of, Kise’d probably be freaking out right about now. A quick glance at his phone confirmed that there were 15 missed messages.

Momoi dropped in disappointment for a second before perking back up. “Well, that’s alright, there’s always next time. Aomine-kun, stay here for a minute I want to try one of those pastries we saw in the display case when we came in.” And before Aomine could open his mouth to answer, she was already waiting in the line that had formed since their appearance.

Kuroko took another sip of his drink. He didn’t really have any interest in speaking to Aomine, not yet. And so, he stood up preparing to leave. He’d just have to text Momoi later that he was running late and couldn’t stay to say goodbye. 

“Wait.”

Kuroko looked at Aomine in surprise at the unexpected development. He hadn’t thought the other would willingly talk to him.

“About what happened yesterday, I didn’t know it wasn’t your choice.”

And that was as close to an apology as Aomine would ever give, but Kuroko didn’t say it was okay. It wasn’t okay, what he had done was very far from alright. “Goodbye, Aomine-kun.” And Kuroko left, throwing the coffee out on the way. 

He made his way back towards where he had left Kise, and saw the blond no longer surrounded. Instead, he was worriedly staring at his phone. Kuroko walked up to him and tapped him on the arm to get his attention. “Kise-kun.”

Kise jumped but immediately grabbed Kuroko into a hug. “Kurokocchi, I thought I lost you!” He paused and looked down at Kuroko. “Are you alright?”

Sometimes it was a pain to have a friend who was so emotionally perceptive. “I am fine. We should get going.”

Kise bounced back quickly. “I almost forgot!” He chuckled. “It’s actually not too far from here.” And it was as though the entirety of the last half hour hadn’t happened as Kise began to lead Kuroko through the streets once again.

It was only another five minutes before Kise stopped walking. “Here we are!”

Kuroko looked at the building in front of him. It was very familiar. It was the indoor basketball courts: very nice and even more expensive. “Why are we here?”

“I just thought that since you can’t play too much this year, we could play a few games?” He looked rather hopeful.

“Why didn’t we go to the street courts?”

“These are more private so we don’t get interrupted.”

Kuroko looked down at his jeans. “I didn’t bring any clothes.”

It seemed like Kise hadn’t thought of that either. “Me either, I guess I kind of forgot about that,” he said sheepishly. “But that’s alright, we can just play like this.”

That would be gross, Kuroko thought. But he had agreed to do whatever Kise wanted today. “Okay.”

“Let’s go!” Kise cheered as he led them into the building.

It was easy to get a court considering who Kise was. And Kuroko watched him hand over a credit card casually as if paying for one of these courts wouldn’t leave Kuroko homeless. They were given some odd looks from the staff because of their clothing choices, but the two ignored it. And finally they were alone with a ball between them.

Kuroko knew that he wasn’t a very good one on one player, but that didn’t make it any less patronizing when Kise immediately took it easy on him. With his new found skill of dribbling, Kuroko went around Kise. That was a problem because Kuroko was as skilled in dribbling as a ten year old. He shouldn’t have gotten by. And Kuroko knew if he called Kise out on it, there’d only be denials. That meant it was time for drastic measures. 

After Kise had scored and the ball was Kuroko’s once more. Rather than dribble as he had done every time before, Kuroko kept hold of the ball. This seemed to surprise Kise. The eyes on him widened as he brought the ball up to his chest for a shot.

He stopped. His arms didn’t want to cooperate and shoot the ball. His mind was racing. _Kise’s right there, he’s going to see and tell Akashi. You aren’t going to be invisible, what good are you if you can’t even use misdirection?_

“Kurokocchi, are you alright?” Kise was looking at him worriedly. The ball was rolling away from them, but he couldn’t even remember when he had dropped it.

What was that? Why did he panic? It was only Kise, there was nobody else in the room. To be sure, Kuroko looked around; they were alone. If Kise saw one thing, it’d be fine, he reassured himself. “Kurokocchi?”

“I’m fine, can we play again?” Kise agreed to let the whole thing go, for which Kuroko was grateful. It was Kuroko’s ball, he brought it up to his chest for a shot. There was that brief flash of panic again, but Kuroko brushed it aside. He could do this. 

Kise shot forward for a block, but Kuroko was unbothered. That was the intention of the shot after all. He released the ball and it soared towards the basket, eventually landing through the hoop. 

There was silence for a moment and then, “Kurokocchi what was that?”

“I call it the Phantom Shot.”

“That was so cool!” Kise enthused. “It was like it went through my hand. How did you do it? Since when could you do that? What other things have you learned?”

“Please calm down.” Kuroko said calmly as Kise was practically screaming.

“But that was amazing! Next year you could get by us all with that shot.” At least Kise had seemed to come more to terms with losing.

“It makes me more noticeable when I use it. I can’t always use it in games.” He’d already made that mistake once. He had vowed to never use the flashier moves unless it was absolutely necessary.

Kise slumped a little. “But it was so awesome. Can you imagine the looks on the others faces if you used it against them? They’d look so stupid!”

“So did you.”

“Kurokocchi, that’s mean!” Kise fake wailed as he fell to the floor dramatically.

“Are we going to keep playing?” Kuroko asked.

Kise jumped back up, “Yep. You’ve got to show me what else you can do.”

“You can’t tell anyone about this, alright?” Because only bad things could come from too many people knowing.

“Of course I won’t, your secret is safe with me. Now come on, let’s play!”

Kise took him more seriously after that, for which Kuroko was glad. He showed Kise the Phantom Drive but kept everything else a secret since he’d likely be playing Kaijo at some point in the future. A few hours later, and both boys were dripping in sweat. It was gross especially since they’d have to stay in them until they reached Kuroko’s house. Not wanting it to get any worse, Kuroko dropped to floor to show that he quit. Kise agreed amiably enough after Kuroko made it clear he would not be participating anymore. They took a few minutes to catch their breaths before Kuroko announced he’d need to get back to take Nigou outside. 

“Thanks,” Kise said as they were leaving the building, “for coming today.”

“You wouldn’t have left me alone until I agreed.” Kuroko deadpanned.

Kise chuckled, “Fair enough. But seriously I’ve been thinking about it and I realized that we weren’t really a team at the end of last year. And I wanted to say sorry for my part in that. Because you were the one if affected the most.”

“You already apologized for that.”

“I apologized for ignoring you outside of basketball. I didn’t understand what was wrong with our basketball, but I think I’m starting to. I won’t say that I don’t think winning isn’t important, but there’s also more to it than that. And I forgot about that until you started to remind me. So, thank you and I’m sorry.”

Kuroko let out one of his rare smiles. “Apology accepted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I will try and update every two or three weeks depending on how busy I am. Let me know what you think.


	3. One part three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunions occur, Kuroko isn't sure that's a good thing

Kuroko didn’t go to the finals of the preliminaries for Seirin and Touou’s block, but he wasn’t surprised when it was Aomine’s team that advanced. Instead, Kuroko went to a few of Kise’s games after Kise had begged him almost non-stop. Not that he really minded, it was refreshing to watch Kise play with Kaijo rather than on the same court as Kaijo. 

Unsurprisingly, they were the ones to advance to Interhigh.

The end of the tournaments also signalled the beginning of summer break, and Kuroko realized how boring it was without basketball. Kise must’ve sensed this and tried to be around as much as he could, but basketball and modelling ate away at the majority of his time. As a result, Kuroko was alone more often than not, and he did not appreciate it.

He considered going to some Interhigh matches, but could not find the motivation to do so. Watching his failures personified was not high on his list of priorities.

At least, that was his mindset until the quarterfinals rolled around and Kuroko felt like he might go insane if he stayed in his apartment for another day. He’d read more books in the past weeks than he had in the previous year, and he was so close to being done with shooting the ball only to watch it not go in the hoop. He needed some sort of change. Besides, the game wasn’t that far if he took a train. Without giving himself much more time to ponder, he put Nigou in an old sports bag, and the two were off.

The arena was swarming with people, and Kuroko still marvelled at the fact that so many people cared about high school basketball. Or maybe so many people cared about the Miracles, he didn't know. With the knowledge that Kise was playing soon, Kuroko thought about going to wish him luck, but decided against it. The blond probably wouldn't be too happy that he’d made the journey alone for a game he wasn't even playing in.

Instead, Kuroko went to the stands to find a seat. He carefully avoided Seirin when they passed, and he especially avoided the sad looks on their faces. They’d get back into gear, he tried to reassure himself. It was what he admired most about them.

His options in terms of seating were rather small considering just how many people he didn’t really want to see, but he eventually found a seat that seemed pretty safe. He pulled out his phone to see how many messages Kise had left him. It was because of this, that he didn’t notice the footsteps approaching him. 

“Kuroko.”

He didn’t jump, but it was a near thing. If that was what it was like when he startled someone, he understood why people got so annoyed with him. 

Kuroko looked up and blinked. “Midorima-kun, shouldn’t you be with your team?”

Midorima gave him an odd look, “They’re sitting a few sections over.” And indeed, Kuroko could see a compacted blob of orange to their right. “You don’t live anywhere near here,” Midorima continued, previous line of conversation abruptly closed.

“No I don’t.”

“Then I suppose you’re here to watch our old teammates, you’ve always been sentimental like that.” He pushed up his glasses with taped fingers. “You’d have no other reason to be here considering you don’t play basketball.”

He didn’t ask it as a question, but even Kuroko could see that was obviously what it was. “I had an illness that prevented me from joining the team.”

“I see.” Most others would ask what sort of illness, but Kuroko relaxed knowing that Midorima would not. Asking would equate to caring, and Midorima liked to pretend he didn’t do that on a regular basis. “I don’t know why you’d bother coming, it is obvious Touou will leave this match victorious.”

Kuroko didn’t reply because anything he wanted to say would only start an argument, and Kuroko was so tired of arguing with Midorima. He was done with that part of his life.

Sitting in their stunted silence, the buzzer went off to signal the beginning of the game. And just as the ball was tossed into the air, the pair were interrupted. “Tetsuya, Shintaro, what a surprise,” said a very unsurprised voice.

“Akashi-kun.”

“Akashi.”

They both greeted their former captain who was standing on the end of the aisle, looking completely smug as if he had somehow planned this meeting. Kuroko wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

“Shintaro, do you mind giving me and Tetsuya some privacy?”

Midorima hesitated, but he did not disobey. He would never actually defy Akashi. With a quick nod, he left them both to go to his own team, leaving Akashi to take his spot. 

“Hello, Tetsuya,” Akashi said with a tone of voice that Kuroko had never liked.

“Akashi-kun.” Kuroko greeted again as he kept his eyes on the game below them. Kise was being blocked at every turn by Aomine, but it was still early on and Kuroko knew Kise still had his trump card. 

“Do you regret not taking the opportunity I gave to you?” Akashi asked as he gracefully leaned back in his chair.

“No.” And it was easy to say he didn’t.

“That’s too bad. I was so disappointed to learn that you wouldn’t be playing with us this year. The others are so predictable, I can beat them with ease. But you, you always offered a unique challenge. And then you disappointed me by not taking my offer to play for a better school. I even had an ace up my sleeve, but now I don’t need him until next year, and he’ll have graduated by then. He was so upset to learn he was being benched.”

The buzzer rang again when Kaijo called a timeout. Kuroko turned towards the red head. “I know about Mayuzumi-san.” And he took great pleasure to see the moment of shock break through Akashi’s mask. And then Akashi started laughing.

“Tetsuya, when did you get so interesting?” he asked with a grin.

If Akashi’s standards of interesting people were those who had time travelled, then his standards were too high. “People can change, Akashi-kun.”

“I suppose they can.” Akashi shifted his eyes to the game. “It seems as the Ryota is having difficulties.”

“Kise-kun just needs a little more time.”

Akashi tilted his head back towards Kuroko. “You seem rather sure about that.”

“I am.”

By the end of the first quarter, Touou had managed a four point lead at 18-14. It was also around that time when Nigou had woken up from his nap and decided to come out of the bag to sit on Kuroko’s lap.

“He looks rather like you, doesn’t he?” Akashi asked, hardly sparing a glance at their new addition.

“Someone’s mentioned it once or twice.” Kuroko replied nonchalantly.

The second quarter started just as intensely as the first one had been. The ball barely went through one team’s hoop before it was grabbed and returned. Aomine and Kise were still fighting for dominance, and it was Aomine who was winning.

In a move to try to shift the power, Kise started to attempt pulling off his trump card. “It’s interesting to think that Ryota’s going to try this here.” Akashi commented. 

“There is no better time to try it.” Kuroko replied.

“If he doesn’t do it, it’ll be a wasted game.”

“He will do it.”

And Kise did do it. In the third quarter his perfect copy was complete and there were essentially two Aomine’s on the court, which was a slightly terrifying thought.

“It’s amusing to watch how everyone has improved in such a short amount of time, don’t you agree?” Akashi asked after Aomine earned his fourth foul because of Kise. 

“Everyone has grown into their talents,” Kuroko answered.

“Even you?”

Kuroko only hummed in response and Aomine blocked Kise’s dunk on the court, effectively ending the third quarter.

“Tetsuya, you’re making me impatient for next season already.” Akashi chuckled. “I don’t suppose you’d play a match against me? It would be only fair since you seem to know so much about my phantom player.”

“No.”

Akashi sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t.” He leaned in a little closer. “But be careful, Tetsuya, you’re starting to remind me of us.” Akashi looked like he thoroughly enjoyed that.

Kuroko did not shift; he didn’t want the other to see how much the comment affected him. He wasn’t anything like them, he told himself. Akashi was just trying to get under his skin because that was what this Akashi did. He still loved basketball, and he still valued his team. Things were fine.

“Oh my, it looks like the strain is becoming a bit too much.” Akashi commented.

Kuroko whipped his head to look at Akashi, but relaxed when he saw the other’s attention on the court. He turned back to the game. Kise’s legs were visibly trembling, and Aomine was keeping one arm close to his body. It was the problem of the Miracles. They were too talented for even their own bodies. Though they’d both be able to hold out until the end. There was only a few minutes left; the score was 96-106 in Touou’s favor. It was just like it had been the first time.

“Ryota will need to make this play if he has any chance,” Akashi said.

They both knew he wouldn’t. One because he had lived this exact moment before, and the other because there was nothing that he didn’t know. Kise dribbled the ball down the court and started the formless shot, but instead of shooting, he passed the ball to his captain. At least, he tried to. It was intercepted by Aomine at the last moment, who then went and scored with an unhindered dunk.

The look of shock and regret that passed over Kise’s face in that moment worried Kuroko. That look of regret could very well mean that Kuroko’s efforts to make Kise _see_ would be wasted. It would be much easier for the blond to fall back on a philosophy he had held onto for more than a year than it would be to see what had just happened as an exception to his new outlook.

“So much for teamwork,” Akashi said. This did not ease Kuroko’s worries.

“Kise-kun wouldn’t have made the shot.”

“No,” Akashi agreed, “but it doesn’t matter since that wasn’t what he tried to do.”

The final buzzer rang. 96-110. Akashi stood up. “It’s been fun, but I must be going now. Goodbye for now, Tetsuya. I certainly look forward to the day where we stand on opposite sides of the court.”

Kuroko was left alone to stare as Kise was helped off of the court because his legs would not cooperate. Kise would be okay. He hoped Kise would be okay. He wanted Kise to be okay.

In an effort to distract himself, Kuroko turned towards the person who had been staring at him since the disappearance of the redhead. The moment he made eye contact, Midorima turned away. Kuroko sighed. Basketball wasn’t supposed to be this tiring if you weren’t the one playing.

“Come on, Nigou, let’s go home.” He stood and started to weave in and out of the growing crowd and headed towards the train station. 

In a total one-eighty,Kuroko was looking forward to being home where he could just lay there, perhaps open one of the new books he’d just gotten. In fact, sitting on the train, he could even picture it. 

He almost missed the people who crammed their way into the train car at the last possible moment. 

It was Seirin. He sighed, he’d just ignore them and then they wouldn’t bother him.

“Did you see that ending dunk?”

“Of course we did, you idiot, we were all watching the game.”

“I didn’t see it.”

“Well that’s because you went to the bathroom at least 20 times.”

“That’s not my fault!”

Even though he was doing his best to ignore it, their words reached his ears. It pulled at his heart in a way he usually associated with the Miracles. He should be over there, he had been over there once in a lifetime that was feeling more like a dream these days. A really good dream that he wouldn’t give up for anything, not even when it became a nightmare.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Kuroko looked up to see who had spoken. Because it almost sounded like someone was talking to him. It was Kiyoshi, and he looked like he was staring right at him. But that wasn’t possible. He’d never even met Kiyoshi this time around. No, Kiyoshi must be talking to someone behind him or even someone between them that Kuroko couldn’t see.

Kuroko looked back down with the knowledge the question wasn’t for him.

“Can you hear me?”

But who else could he be talking about? Kuroko lifted his head again. Two brown eyes were still staring at him.

“I asked if you were okay?” But he spoke strangely that time. His words were slower and more pronounced.

Kiyoshi thought he was deaf, Kuroko realized. He wanted to laugh, but that would probably seem rude. “I am fine, thank you for asking.”

“Kiyoshi, who are you talking to?”

“Idiot is probably talking to himself. Again.”

Kiyoshi took a moment to look between Kuroko and his team several times. “Nobody.” He gave Kuroko a little wink before turning around and asking them if they wanted to learn a card game he’d recently become a master at.

Kuroko made it home with nothing else eventful happening, for which he was thankful. After putting away his shoes and getting settled, Kuroko took out his phone.

_You played well today, Kise-kun._

The response was near instantaneous.

_Thanks Kurokocchi! But my legs hurt now :(_

Before he could even think to reply, the next message came.

_We’re going to win next time, though._

And then,

_Wait!_

_Did you come?_

_You did, didn’t you?_

_Why didn’t you come see me?_

_Kurokocchi?_

Kuroko smiled.

-M-

The streetball tournament was even more crowded than Kuroko remembered it being, which made navigating the crowds a lot more difficult. But maybe he was just misremembering since there was no muscled wall to act as a buffer. Either way, Kuroko made his way to the next match. He’d been there all day working on a theory he’d come up with when he had been working on his basketball. Besides the fundamentals, it was the perfect time to add some new moves to his repertoire. Especially less flashy moves that would not affect his noticeability. But he quickly realized that there were only so many things he could do with passing, so he tried to go at it a different way. That led him to think of his hobby: people watching. Kuroko already had to utilize the ability to a certain extent to be able to make his passes, but if he were to train it more, there was practically no limit to what he could do. With this new motivation, Kuroko got to work.

But he after numerous failures, he learned that the only way to train the ability to be more useful in basketball was to watch more basketball. And so Kuroko had been out at the courts all day to watch different teams. It was slow progress. He’d be more accurate with his predictions in the end of a game than he was at the beginning, but it only worked for the team he had been watching. The next game he’d be right back at square one. He had picked out some tells to look for, but he usually noticed them too late for the information to be helpful.

The sound of talking led him away from the court he’d been trying to reach. It was a very familiar voice. Kuroko looked down at his watch, the time had gotten away from him faster than he thought. He shrugged and pushed his way into the crowd that had formed.

“You mean you aren’t going to play because you’re afraid?”

Watching Kagami goad Murasakibara into playing streetball was not any less ridiculous than it had been the first time. In fact, it was worse because Kuroko couldn’t hit Kagami for his behavior. He then watched as Murasakibara took the bait, and he reached down to grab the umbrella he’d been dragging around all day.

It was at times like these that foreknowledge was nice, he decided as everyone around him got soaked. There was no reason to stay any longer now that the matches were cancelled for the day. He turned to leave and noticed that one Himuro Tatsuya was giving his umbrella a strange look. Understandable considering it had been a clear day all day. But he was not willing to get into it, so Kuroko only tipped his umbrella in acknowledgment before he left.

It was only a short distance from the courts to his apartment, and yet the rain had stopped in the time it took for him to reach his front door. He almost had a heart attack when he realized that the door was unlocked. Never once had Kuroko forgotten to lock his door, which meant someone else did it. He debated contacting the police right then, but quickly decided against it when he heard sobbing coming from the other side.

Sitting on his couch was a sobbing, shaking, soaked Momoi. What an unfortunate day to wear a white shirt.

She noticed him immediately. “Tetsu-kun!” she cried as she hugged him, not even giving him the chance to put his things down.

“Momoi-san, what’s wrong?” he asked, even though he already knew.

“Aomine-kun hates me.” She said, her words were almost intelligible. “I had to get him taken off of the team temporarily because he hurt his arm, and he said he never wants to talk to me again. What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m sure Aomine-kun does not hate you.”

“He does, he’s never going to forgive me.”

For someone so smart, Momoi could certainly be stupid at times. “Momoi-san, Aomine-kun is angry that he didn’t get to play; he is not angry with you. He knows you did it because you care.”

“That’s not what he said.” Her argument sounded weaker, and she wasn’t so adamant.

“Aomine-kun does not know enough words to say what he means to say.” That got a giggle out of her. “Besides, he wouldn’t be able to find his own hand without you.”

The crying had stopped. “You really think so?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Tetsu-kun. I’m sure you’re right, Aomine-kun’s just being a bigger idiot than usual. ” The good thing about Momoi was the fact that when she got upset, it was easy to calm her down again.

Instead of replying, Kuroko reached into his bag and pulled out the spare shirt he had brought with him to the courts and held it out to her.  
Momoi looked confused, but looked down and saw that her bra was completely showing. Her cheeks turned red before she grabbed the shirt and headed towards the bathroom.

Kuroko took the time to put away everything he’d been holding before going to the kitchen. He searched his mostly empty cupboards before he found what he’d been looking for: hot chocolate. He didn’t like the stuff, but it was one of Momoi’s favorites which was why he even had it. He looked at dubiously for a moment because now that he thought about it, the stuff was very old. Did hot chocolate mix go bad? He looked at it for a moment before deciding that it probably didn’t and then started to boil some water. Ten minutes later, the drinks were ready and Kuroko sipped his to make sure he wasn’t about to poison his friend. It was good enough and so he brought them out to the living room.

Momoi was back and now wearing his dry shirt. She had some papers in her hands, and Kuroko realized what he had left on the table in front of an expert analyst. “Momoi-san, it is not nice to go through other people's’ things.”

Momoi turned around, startled by his presence. “Tetsu-kun, I am so sorry, but can you really do all of these things?” She lifted up the papers to show him exactly what she’d been reading. He’d been working on improving his current moves, and he had taken to writing those ideas down. And now Momoi had them.

“Not all of them, no.” He walked over to the table, set the drinks down, and took a seat next to her. He should really learn to hide things he didn’t want people to see, even if they were in his own home.

“Any of them would be a total game changer. An unblockable shot? A drive no one could see? And these eyes? It’s amazing.” She looked at him with an awe that made him extremely uncomfortable.

“Most of them are just ideas, it’s not very important.”

“Not very important? Tetsu-kun, you’re a genius!” she enthused. “Can you show me these?”

He probably shouldn’t. He definitely shouldn’t. Momoi was technically his enemy, and giving your ideas to the enemy was historically proven to be a bad idea. 

“What do you want to see?”

In the end, he agreed to show her one move. And it was going to be his Phantom Drive because the likelihood of him using it in games was very small because it destroyed his low presence. They went to the courts near his apartment that had not hosted the tournament so it was a bit longer of a walk, but Momoi didn’t seem to mind.

“Now, try to stop me.” Kuroko told her as he got the ball out. He took it to the top of the key. He started dribbling as he watched her eyebrows furrow as she concentrated on the ball. That voice in the back of his head returned with a vengeance. _Stop! What are you doing? She’ll tell Aomine and you know it. You’re going to be useless again._ Kuroko pushed it out of mind. It was only Momoi, there was nobody else around. And as long as Aomine never saw the move and only heard about it, he’d be fine. With his center found, he returned his mind to the task at hand.

The Phantom Drive was always easier if he was playing with a team, but it wasn’t impossible to do it by himself. He just had to be faster. The key was distraction. Kuroko shifted his left foot out so it would scrape across the gravel, a noise barely noticeable with the dribble of the ball. So unnoticeable that Momoi wouldn’t even register it consciously. As soon as it stopped, he moved his left foot forward so as Momoi unconsciously shifted her eyes towards the noise, Kuroko would already be half way passed her. By the time her eyes moved back, it would be too late and she would think Kuroko had disappeared.

He stopped once he was behind her. She spun around. “How did you do that? That was so cool! It was like you didn’t even move and then you were just gone.”

“It’s a secret,” he said.

She pouted at him but didn’t pester about it.

“Momoi-san? I know you will tell Aomine-kun.” She looked away guiltily. “But please make sure nobody else knows about this.” Just because he didn’t plan on using it didn’t mean he wouldn’t.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” She promised him, and he knew she would keep it.

After Momoi made him show her the move several more times, it was getting dark out. Of course, Kuroko couldn’t just let pink haired girl go home alone. So, despite her protests about how far it was, they both boarded the bus that would lead to Momoi’s neighborhood. They didn’t talk much on the ride, Momoi no doubt because she was thinking about what Kuroko had shown her, and Kuroko had been up for more than 12 hours at that point and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep.

“Rakuzan won Interhigh,” Momoi said quietly about three quarters of the way into the ride. “Akashi-kun didn’t let any of them play, and Rakuzan still won.”  
“Akashi-kun would not let anybody beat his team.”

“I know.” She tilted her head back against the wall. “I know I talk about Aomine-kun the most, but we were all friends, I worry about you all. The rest I know someone will come along and beat them, even Aomine-kun, but what about Akashi-kun? It seems so unlikely he’d ever lose, but he needs to. I miss him.”

Kuroko knew the feeling. “Next year, Seirin is going to win.” He spoke with as much conviction as he could muster. He would not let the past repeat itself.

“How are you always so confident about things?” She sounded almost jealous.

“I made a promise and I won’t go back on my word.”

She turned to him, eyes analytical. And she seemed to find whatever it was that she had been looking for because she gave him a smile. “I can’t wait.”

The bus left them off in a quiet neighborhood that differed greatly from the busy street Kuroko lived on. For starters, it had actual houses rather than apartments. Kuroko and Momoi walked side by side as they approached the tan house belonging to her family. It was a nice two story, and it had a small garden filled with flowers taking up the small front yard. Same as it had always been.

It seemed as though Momoi was rather tired because she didn’t try to convince him to come inside like she usually did. He wasn't sure if that made him happy or not. Instead, she only gave him a hug and said her goodbyes.

He watched her go inside before heading back down the street. He did pause for a moment to look at the white house next door to the tan one when something caught his eye. He looked up to the room with the light on and saw the curtain shift. Aomine could be so obvious sometimes, Kuroko thought as he headed back towards the bus station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The spacing on the last chapter got a little wonky, hopefully it's fixed now. Sorry about that. Thanks for the reviews and kudos regardless of my errors. Please let me know what you think!


	4. One part four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the Winter Cup, and Kuroko finds the whole thing exhausting

Time passed, and the weather had finally started to grow cold again after an unusually long warm season. The Miracles had all made it to the Winter Cup, not that there had ever been any doubt from anyone.

Kuroko was sleeping on the first day of the tournament when he was awoken by a text message.

_The Opening Ceremony begins in one hour, meet us on the front steps immediately afterwards._

He didn’t ask because he never did, but it still didn’t fail to irritate Kuroko just a little bit. He had no plans to go to the tournament that day because he did not want to watch Touou destroy Seiho. It would not be enjoyable under any circumstance.

To go or not to go, that was the question. If he chose not to go, Akashi wouldn’t be able to immediately retaliate. But that didn’t meant there wouldn’t be a punishment. On the other hand, he had no interest going to the meeting again without Kagami to derail the conversation. And his bed was making a very good argument as well as to why he should stay.

So the real question was if it was worth the hassle to stay home. The answer to that was no. So, with monumental effort, he pulled himself out of bed and got dressed. He took one look in the mirror and decided that he wasn’t going to bother with his hair when he could just wear a hat and have the same effect. Once he was ready, he grabbed his phone and headed out. He almost immediately turned back around. It was even colder than he thought, but he soldiered on and kept walking.

It seemed as though he’d timed his departure perfectly because there were four people waiting on the steps outside the building. Akashi hadn’t made his dramatic entrance yet. 

Kise was the first to spot him, unsurprisingly. “Kurokocchi!” Kise shouted as he hugged the smaller boy. Well, he tried. Kuroko stepped out of the way of the flying tackle.

This did not seem to deter the blond one bit. “Kurokocchi, did you come to watch me play?”

Now that his relationship with Kise had improved, Kuroko tried to be nicer to him. But that thought didn’t even cross his mind as he answered. “No.”

“Why are you here then, Kuro-chin?”

Kuroko looked up to the purple haired giant who looked like he’d much rather be inside. It was a feeling Kuroko could completely sympathize with. But in a way that was very uncharacteristic, his words had been a bit harsh, though Kuroko felt like he knew why. Murasakibara would be the first to quit basketball if he thought he could get away with it. He was most likely jealous of Kuroko’s lack of presence that had allowed him to stop playing. But explaining that he hadn’t quit for the millionth time wasn’t appealing. “Akashi-kun asked,” he told them instead.

Kuroko looked to the remaining two Miracle members who had chosen to stay silent. Midorima was fidgeting slightly with the tape on his fingers, a sign that he had something to say but wasn’t going to say it. Typical behavior then. Aomine’s face was much more interesting. He was staring a hole into Kuroko’s head as if he thought he could get whatever answers he wanted that way. He wasn’t quite willing to talk to Aomine just yet, and so he only raised an eyebrow at the tanned player.

He seemed to take that as an invitation. “Can you really-“

“Aomine-kun, shut up please.” He should’ve guessed that was what this was about. Aomine only ever thought about basketball, even when he claimed it was boring. In fact, he must be even more tired than he thought he was if he was unable to guess what the other was going to say. Consequently, he had to deal with the curious looks being sent his way. Well, Kise looked like he knew what it was about. He was wrong, but close enough that it didn’t matter.

“No, Tetsuya, I’m interested in what Daiki had to say.” And there was Akashi walking towards them, stopping at the top of the stairs. Great. He’d probably been listening to their conversation since the beginning.

At that point, there was no use in trying to hide, it would only give him a headache. He could try to be vague though. “I played basketball against Momoi-san.”  
Aomine snorted. “Understatement. She said you turned invisible and took the ball with you.”

Kuroko wanted to take Aomine’s head and smash it against the wall before doing the same thing to his own. “Momoi-san greatly exaggerated.” But his damage control was ineffective as the curiosity in the others’ eyes showed up.

“That’s not possible.”

“Now Shintarou, it wouldn’t do to underestimate our phantom, he was one of us after all.” Akashi reprimanded.

“Akashi-kun, why are we here?” Kuroko asked, uncomfortable with the line of conversation.

Akashi laughed, but he did let the subject drop. “I thought it would be appropriate to have one last gathering before we find out who the best of us really is.” It was very obvious who Akashi thought the very best of them was. He looked to Kuroko. “Well, between most of us.”

“Is that it, I want to go back inside, it’s cold out here.” Aomine complained.

“So confident, are you Daiki?”

It was no secret that Akashi scared them all to some degree, the new Akashi even more so. And it had always been true that Aomine had been the one with the most fear. In everything except for basketball, that was. “The only one who is ever going to beat me, is me.”

Kuroko wished that Aomine remembered being beaten by Seirin so he’d stop saying that stupid catchphrase.

“We’ll see.” Akashi said in the tone that parents used when they were simply indulging their children. “I suppose since you’re all so eager to leave, I’ll see you all when you try and stand against me. Now if you’ll excuse me and Tetsuya.”

It was a clear dismissal, but nobody moved. That last string of loyalty that existed between Kuroko and the others rearing its head. “I’m not going to kill him, I assure you.”

Everybody stayed where they were.

Akashi narrowed his eyes in anger. “I said leave.” It was the tone that came out just before things got dangerous. And it never failed to be effective.

The others gave Kuroko one last look before stepping back. Kuroko expected it, but it still saddened that very small part that hoped they might stay.

“So, Tetsuya, you’ve been busy haven’t you?” The anger was gone as if it never existed in the first place.

Kuroko didn’t answer, but he didn’t think Akashi really wanted one.

“An invisible drive, was it? And from the look on Ryouta’s face, that’s not the only thing you’ve been working on. You’ve been showing all of our former teammates what you can do except for me. I’m hurt, truly.” Akashi started to head down the stairs, towards Kuroko. He didn’t pause until there was hardly any distance between them. “What else can you do?” he asked.

“Enough.” It was hard to keep the discomfort off of his face.

“Show me,” Akashi demanded in a low tone.

“You have a game.”

“There’s time.”

And Kuroko thought about agreeing. He was curious if anything he did would work on Akashi if the redhead had never seen it before. He wouldn’t bet on it, but it’d still be interesting. For just a moment, Kuroko wanted to agree. “I can’t.”

“You can’t just deny me forever, Tetsuya, I’m not that patient.” Akashi warned.

“Not today, Akashi-kun.”

Akashi stared at him. Kuroko thought they might be stuck in this battle of wills forever, but they were interrupted. It wasn’t Kagami this time. “Sei-chan, coach wants you back.”

Kuroko broke eye contact with Akashi to stare at the new comer. Mibuchi Reo, Rakuzan’s number 6. Good shooter. Apparently mentally unstable if he was willing to call Akashi ‘Sei-chan.’

“Reo. I will be there in a moment.” It was very apparent that Akashi was not pleased.

“Whatever you say, Sei-chan.” And then he was gone. Not once had he indicated that he knew Kuroko was there.

“It looks like you’re needed, Akashi-kun.”

Akashi turned his glare to Kuroko. “How fortunate for you.” He took one step closer. “After I win the Winter Cup, we are going to have a talk.” He stayed where he was for a moment before stepping back, letting his anger leave for the time being. “Goodbye, Tetsuya.” He turned around and walked off towards the building.

Kuroko stood in place for a moment and collected his thoughts before he headed home. Perhaps Rakuzan was better for Akashi than he had first given them credit for. He hadn’t threatened to remove a limb at any point in the conversation, and the nickname hardly even brought out Akashi’s ire. Kuroko wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On one hand, getting the old Akashi back was one of the things Kuroko was working so hard to accomplish; on the other hand, Kuroko knew he was a very selfish person. Stopping his friends from hating basketball was great, but having them as his friends once more was even better. Having the old Akashi back was great, but having Kuroko be the one to do it was even better. If Rakuzan was the one to change Akashi, there was no guarantee Akashi would even want to talk to him anymore. Why would he when he had friends that could do what Kuroko couldn’t?

Kuroko shook his head, it wasn’t the time for that. To distract himself, he pulled out his phone. It was no surprise that there were more than a few messages from Kise enquiring about his well being. Kuroko reassured him that Akashi had not actually eaten him.

He arrived home not long after. Annoyingly, he was unable to fall back asleep no matter how hard he tried. Instead, he found that he wanted to play basketball. But it was freezing outside. But he really wanted to play. But he’d probably end up with frostbite. But standing outside with the others probably already gave that to him anyways.

Kuroko went and practiced.

-M-

The news of Touou’s slaughter of Seiho at 130-54 reached him rather quickly after the game had ended, and the battle of Touou beating Yosen 100-94 was all most people he came near were talking about. Kuroko tried to ignore it. The first game of the Winter Cup that Kuroko actually paid any attention to was Kise’s game against Haizaki. And that was only because he was concerned about Kise both physically and mentally.

Thankfully, Kuroko’s presence went largely unnoticed. He wasn’t sure just how many more tense game watching with the Miracles he could handle. The game itself went mostly the same as it had the first time. Haizaki stealing others’ moves left and right and Kise being majorly slowed down due to his leg that still had yet to properly heal. Kise’s face still became startlingly void of any emotion, and Kuroko knew he needed to yell again. Just because he had done it once, didn’t mean it was any less intimidating the second time. If anything, it was worse because he didn’t have Seirin to deflect the looks he’d receive.

But he couldn’t think about that right now because Kise needed him to do this. “Kise-kun, you can do this!” He was keenly aware of just how well his voice travelled in the arena and of the fact that his face was turning very red. He could feel the stares of so many people in his direction, and he knew that some of those stares belonged to those that he wanted to avoid.

But none of that mattered as everything that made Kise, Kise returned to his face, and he looked to Kuroko with a bright smile before turning back to Haizaki with a glare. He then brought a smile to Kuroko’s face by recreating Midorima’s full court shot, shocking everyone.

It was nearing the end of the game when it became clear that Haizaki realized he couldn’t win. Instead of playing to win, Haizaki started to play to injure. In one of the most unsportsmanlike displays that Kuroko had ever seen, Haizaki rolled his foot over Kise’s, causing the blond to cry out in pain. And Kuroko was even more disgusted by the other’s actions than he was the first time even if the other didn’t remember doing the same thing the first time.

In what was probably an unwise move, Kise continued to play even though that would likely make the foot worse. He didn’t have to, the game was almost certainly in the Kaijou’s favor by that point. But Kise kept pushing himself until the last buzzer sounded. 80-74.

Kise had to be carried off the court, which Kuroko couldn’t remember happening the first time. Worried, he made his way down to the exit Kise would have to leave at to see if he was alright. When he arrived, it seemed like someone had beaten him to the punch. Haizaki was already there. Not wanting to talk to him, Kuroko swiftly hid behind a nearby tree.

Kuroko was worried he’d need to interfere when Kise did come out, but then the last person he’d expect to show up did.

“Haven’t you done enough, Haizaki?” Aomine asked mockingly.

Haizaki turned around, acting surprised. “What if I was just checking on my poor former teammate? I didn’t mean to step on him after all. Besides, why would you care? I thought the only one you cared about was yourself or some shit like that?”

He really should’ve seen the punch coming, Kuroko thought. It takes some time to pack enough power to knock someone out after all. “Asshole.” Aomine grunted before stalking off, apparently doing what he’d come to do. Kuroko wondered if that had happened the first time, too.

Eventually, long after Haizaki had woken up and stormed off somewhere, Kuroko decided to leave after Kise had still not come out. He sent off a text asking how the foot was before heading home.

His answer came sometime after Kuroko went to bed that night.

“Hello?” Kuroko answered the phone, half awake.

“It’s broken.” Came the quiet admission.

“Kise-kun?” He tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

“My foot, Haizaki broke it. I’m out for the rest of the season.”

Kuroko was awake. That had definitely not happened the first time. “Are you alright, Kise-kun?”

“My team is going to lose to Touou now,” Kise said in lieu of an answer.

And Kuroko hated to predict the outcome of games, but Kise was most likely right. It took a Miracle to beat a Miracle. Without Kise, Kaijou would have a tough time winning.

“I woke you up, didn’t I? I’m sorry, just thought I’d let you know. I’ll let you sleep now.”

“Kise-kun. Are you alright?” Kuroko asked forcefully.

There was a humorless chuckle. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. There’s always next year, right? Night, Kurokocchi.” And for the first time ever, Kise hung up on Kuroko.

Kuroko did not sleep well that night.

-M-

In the end, Kaijou did not have to worry about facing a Miracle because Aomine refused to play if Kise couldn’t. That didn’t change the predicted outcome any when Touou beat Kaijou 90-79. Which left the final match to be Touou versus Rakuzan. That match would begin in five minutes, and Kuroko was going to watch it by himself once again. He would’ve come with Kise but the blond was still bitter about his foot ruining his chances to play in the championship and therefore did not want to watch said game.

In all honesty, Kuroko wasn’t too interested in watching the game either, but there was that small flickering of hope that insisted that maybe something good could come out of the match.

From his spot in the stands, Kuroko watched Touou warm up. That is, Kuroko watched Aomine warm up because it had just been so long since he’d seen it. Aomine must be more worried about the game than he seemed, but Kuroko didn’t blame him.

With one minute before the game, Kuroko turned his gaze to Rakuzan. They were efficient in their movements, and Kuroko could very easily see how they made it to the finals for a second time. There was one difference: Mayuzumi was not participating, but was instead sitting on the bench glaring at the floor. Kuroko understood why. Akashi had given him hope and then benched him the whole season. It would’ve been better to let Mayuzumi quit, but Kuroko knew that wasn’t how Akashi worked. He’d keep what he considered his close by just in case they were needed. But the problem was that Rakuzan never had a just in case moment, they were too strong. And that left Mayuzumi to watch what could’ve been his.

The whistle blew to signal the start of the game. And as Aomine caught the toss up, Kuroko couldn’t help but think it should’ve been Kagami who grabbed it. And the formless shot that sunk through the hoop should’ve been a dunk by his new light. But it wasn’t, and Touou took the first points of the game.  
Hayama was quick to take the ball back down the court, using his powerful dribble to stop the ball from being stolen. He was met with Aomine, but instead of confronting him like Kuroko thought he might do, the snaggle toothed Rakuzan player passed to Nebuya. Nebuya then wasted no time in dunking through Wakamatsu.

The first quarter remained very high paced, with each team unable to pull a huge lead by the end. It was mostly how Kuroko thought it would go with the exception of Akashi, who remained almost docile. He’d take the ball when it was passed to him, and he scored on more than one occasion, but he didn’t even come close to performing at his capacity. Even more worrying considering his team was losing, no matter how small that gap was, and Kuroko knew just how much it had to be grating on Akashi’s nerves. What was his former captain doing?

Something changed in the second quarter, though Kuroko didn’t understand what. The ball was passed to Akashi, who said something Kuroko couldn’t decipher, and then he started to dribble the ball as the atmosphere became much tenser in the span of seconds.

Sensing the change, Aomine switched marks with Imayoshi, who had been guarding Akashi up until that point. Aomine and Akashi spoke for a bit and then Akashi started to dribble faster and faster. As Akashi broke off to one side, Aomine stumbled but was still standing. And although the ankle break wasn’t enough to make Aomine fall, his unsteadiness was enough to let Akashi score.

Kuroko wondered what was holding Akashi back, but was resigned to never knowing as he watched the game progress through the first half. Aomine seemed to be more excited than he’d been in a long time, grinning like an insane man. That lasted until Akashi started to steal the ball from Aomine, causing frustration to build and Aomine’s moves became much less precise, much more like the beast some people thought he was.

The half ended with Rakuzan in the lead 52-49. Aomine had stacked up three fouls for himself because of his aggressive behavior and he seemed to be getting scolded for it by a concerned Momoi. Out of everyone that had been on the court, only Aomine and Akashi didn’t seem completely exhausted. Such was the power of a Miracle.

Kuroko stood up as the teams headed towards the locker room because he really needed a drink and maybe some air if he could make his way through the crowds. All in all, the game wasn’t as bad to watch as he had feared it might’ve been. There was still some deep sense of wrongness that it wasn’t him down there, but he’d been dealing with that feeling long enough to almost ignore it.

Kuroko slipped through the crowds, bought himself a water from the vending machine, and did end up making his way outdoors for just a few minutes of peace and quiet.

“Kuroko Tetsuya?”

Or maybe not. Kuroko turned around, surprised to see Mayuzumi Chihiro glaring at him. “Mayuzumi-san?”

“I saw you sitting in the stands, and I had to come out here.” Mayuzumi said as he took another step closer.

Kuroko was getting a little more concerned with each step. “How can I help you, Mayuzumi-san?”

“It’s probably the only chance I’m going to get.”

Kuroko took a step back. “Are you okay?”

“You’ve ruined it, you know?”

And as Kuroko opened his mouth to ask what it was he had ruined, he was punched in the face. Considering that it was unexpected and Kuroko had never weighed much, he went falling to the ground.

“I’ve spent months training to be your replacement, to be the better phantom, and then you quit basketball and after all my hard work I’m told I won’t be needed anymore. What’s so great about you, Kuroko? Nothing that I can see. Anybody can be you, I’m the prime example.” There was so much venom in his voice that Kuroko had to wonder just how long he’d been holding it in. Probably since he’d been benched.

“That was rude.” Kuroko winced slightly at the pain talking brought him.

“Good! This is your fault!”

How could someone so similar to be him in looks and abilities be so different? Kuroko might’ve had a temper, but he’d never been so violent. “I am not Akashi-kun.”

“No, but punching Akashi would be a death sentence, so I’ll take what I can get,” he said bitterly. And then he just left, apparently satisfied with the pain he’d caused.

Kuroko heard the buzzer for the beginning of the second half. He probably should go home, but he wanted to watch the rest of the game. Doing a quick check, Kuroko decided that as long as he didn’t move his mouth too much, he could probably stay until the end of the game. That decided, he quickly made his way back to the arena.

As he sat back down in his seat, Kuroko wondered when basketball involved so much punching. He didn’t like the change. He took the water bottle he had grabbed and carefully brought it to his face, sighing at the cool relief.

The second half started with the same pace that the first half had ended. Akashi did not take his more passive role back, instead choosing to act a little more aggressively. The score was quickly stacking up in Rakuzan’s favor. Aomine decided to do something about it. Kuroko could almost physically see when his former light entered the zone.

This would’ve been a game-changer for Touou if Akashi hadn’t noticed the change and entered the zone for himself to combat this.

After that point, the other members of both teams stopped trying to keep up with their star players. Not that Aomine or Akashi needed extra help. Neither was letting the other get past them without returning the favor twofold. Akashi would block a formless shot by Aomine, but then Aomine wouldn’t fall for the ankle break Akashi tried to pull. It was incredible, and if the shouts of the crowd were anything to go by, they agreed.

But the thing about the zone is that it wasn’t meant to last forever. And indeed, 30 seconds before the quarter ended, Aomine was no longer in the zone. It was physically evident that it was much harder for him to stop the Rakuzan captain.

The quarter ended 96-89.

Aomine seemed slightly manic after he couldn’t enter the zone anymore and he was still losing. Whereas Kise could accept loss with minimal damage, Aomine wasn’t quite at that stage yet. This became apparent when Aomine earned his fourth foul after practically tackling Reo when he attempted to make a shot. And unlike when he played Kaijou, Aomine seemed unable to reel himself in. Only three minutes into the fourth quarter and Aomine officially fouled out of the game. He was thrown out of the game for cursing the referee out. He’d never been too good at staying calm under pressure.

Without their ace, there wasn’t much Touou could do. They held on admirably, but with more of their focus on Akashi, it left four other incredibly strong players open. And they took every opportunity given to them, not letting up in the slightest.

The final buzzer went off 127-107. The trophy would be given to Rakuzan once again.

At least they’d done better than he had, Kuroko thought a little sourly.

Preparing to leave, Kuroko removed the water bottle from his face. He frowned slightly to see it had blood on it. He hadn’t thought Mayuzumi had hit him hard enough to bleed. He supposed he’d need to go wash the cut off lest it become infected.

The bathroom was empty thanks to everyone still celebrating Rakuzan’s win or Touou’s loss depending on your point of view.

Kuroko went to the first available sink and looked into the mirror. It looked worse than he thought it was. His lip was swollen and had a cut, which was where the blood came from. His cheek was already starting to bruise and it was swollen as well. Basically, the whole left half of his face was a mess. Kuroko washed the cut off to the best of his ability, hissing in pain occasionally.

Then the door opened, and Kuroko tensed.

“But did you see that shot at the end?” Two guys walked in, not even noticing him, and Kuroko forced himself to relax. He was being paranoid. Kuroko lightly dabbed at his face with a paper towel and headed out of the bathroom.

He made it outside while avoiding anyone who might notice him. The crowd outside was slightly larger than he expected, but it wasn’t big enough to be an issue. Or so he thought. He was walking through the crowd, keeping his head down just in case he bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry, don’t know how I didn’t see you there.” Kuroko looked up to confirm it was indeed one of the only people who could actually see him that he had just ran into. Takao Kazunari.

Takao whistled when Kuroko looked at him. “Wow, sure looks like you got yourself into a fight there, buddy.”

“Sorry for bumping into you.” Kuroko said, ignoring the previous statement.

“Ah that’s fine, I’m usually better at seeing people.” And then his eyes sharpened. “You know, now that I think about it, small presence, blue hair, you wouldn’t happen to be Kuroko Tetsuya, would you?”

Kuroko nodded reluctantly.

“Oh hey, my name’s Takao Kazunari, I play with Shutoku. Shin-chan mentions you all the time, it’s nice to finally meet you. Though, I’d expected to meet you on the court.”

Speaking of the green haired shooter, Kuroko could see him approaching, and he really didn’t want to explain his injury to any of them. “Ah, it was nice to meet you too, Takao-san, but I really must be going.” He bowed slightly before taking off.

Just before they were out of range, Kuroko heard Takao say one thing. “Hey, Shin-chan! You’ll never guess who I just met!”

Kuroko sighed, no doubt that Takao would mention his injury. But with Midorima, he’d at least have 2 days before his curiosity would get the better of him and the green haired boy would send Kise to check out the injury. And as soon as Kise knew, everyone would know. It wasn’t just that they were annoying when someone they thought of as theirs was injured, they were, but the real problem was the very real possibility of them murdering Mayuzumi. He didn’t want to be indirectly responsible for ending a life.

By the time Kuroko got home, he was extremely tired. So tired that he almost didn’t make it to his bed before he passed out.

-M-

The next morning Kuroko woke up surprised to see there were no new messages on his phone. Shrugging it off, he slowly made his way towards the kitchen to look for something to eat. He opened the fridge and frowned. He’d just bought groceries, so how could there be hardly anything to eat? With a sigh, Kuroko headed back to his room to go get dressed because it seemed like he was going to go get groceries again.

Once ready, he went to the living room to grab his bag and paused. Where were all of his papers? He hadn’t cleaned them up, they should still be scattered across the table, but the table was clear. Had someone broken into his house and stolen his food and basketball papers? It wouldn’t be the strangest thing that had ever happened to him, but it still seemed unlikely.

The only other explanation would be… But no, that would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it? Just to be sure, Kuroko walked to the door of his apartment and opened it.

It was sunny…and much warmer than it should be in December.

It seemed as though he had gone back in time again. Somehow that was a thing that happened.

He walked back inside in a daze. How did this keep happening? He went back to his room to grab his phone. The date confirmed it: his first day at Seirin would be tomorrow. Kuroko put his head in his hands. At least, he supposed, he’d get to play basketball again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to get a little more complicated now. Poor Kuroko.


	5. Two part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back again, Kuroko is ready to take full advantage of the opportunity. Of course, that doesn't quite work out.

“Has anybody seen Kuroko Tetsuya?” The scene before him was so strangely nostalgic that Kuroko felt a smile pull at his lips.

“I am here,” he quietly called out.

He had expected the scream, but it still felt odd. It’d been so long since he’d gotten such a vocal reaction from Riko. “Since when have you been here?”

“I have been here the whole time.”

It was like they were all reading off of a script. They expressed their disbelief that someone like him could play for Teiko, he was told to take off his shirt, the sharp look of disappointment in Riko’s eyes when she didn’t see what she had been expecting. Everything remained the same.

Their first few practices unsettled Kuroko. Logically, he knew that Seiren had improved dramatically from their first practice to the Winter Cup Final, but to see the difference was something else. Nobody had enough stamina to even last an entire practice and easy shots were missed consistently, but by far the biggest difference was the way the team functioned. Or rather, the way they didn't function. 

There was teamwork…..between the second years. Kuroko could easily see that it wasn’t out of malice that the first years weren’t brought into the fold. Instead, it was more like they didn’t know how to do it. Not that they were entirely to blame, the first years didn’t really make themselves approachable.

Kawahada and Fukuda were both receptive to their seniors, but they also had a weird hero worship thing going on that often left them unable to practice.

Furihata was terrified of them all.

Kuroko knew he wasn’t the easiest person to talk to considering most people couldn’t even see him.

And Kagami had actually announced his intentions to work by himself and that the second years really shouldn’t bother.

Kuroko was starting to think it was divine intervention that brought them all together the first time around.

But they had come together. And so Kuroko didn’t let himself be discouraged by the disjointed mess that surrounded him.

The practice match came after one week, and Kuroko was excited to finally show the others what he was capable of. But that wasn't what happened.

It became apparent that something was wrong the first time Kuroko tried to grab the ball. His arm had frozen and a buzzing in his ear grew loud enough to stop him in his tracks. By the time he could move again, the ball was too far away for him to do anything. He tried to shake it off.

It didn't work. Every time there was an opportunity to interfere with the ball’s path, Kuroko couldn’t force himself to do it. At some point, the buzzing grew into a harsh voice that had nothing but criticism on its tongue. _If you do this, they’ll all know. Every single one of them. Someone could walk by and see you. They’ll know it was you, are you trying to be useless?_ He couldn’t focus with the screamed whispers demanding his attention.

By the time the whistle went off to signal the end of the game, the second years had soundly beat the newcomers, Riko had given him a poorly disguised look that left him feeling entirely inadequate, and Kagami thought he was weak. He hardly noticed any of this as he packed up his things. 

He’d heard the voice before. Once with Kise and then again with Momoi, but it hadn’t been nearly so loud and he’d been able to shake it off easily enough then. What was different?

There was really only one thing he could think of.

Kuroko made his way to the courts. He stared at the ball for a minute before starting to dribble slowly. He slid his left foot to make a noise and then darted forward. He came to a stop mere feet away from the basket, ball still in his hand. No voice.

He laughed harshly.

He was afraid. Afraid of being so useless on the court once again, afraid of letting his team down again. If he were to lose his invisibility a second time, he wasn’t sure if he could handle it.

But it was so stupid. Kuroko ran a hand through his hair, making it messier than it usually was. He needed to use his misdirection to help his team. He couldn’t just not do it, he was no good without it.

His mind didn’t seem to care about this logic.

Frustrated, Kuroko stormed off. There was nothing he could do about it.

-M-

Seiren was taking a water break, and Kuroko had been intently watching the door from his spot on the bench. Any second now. 

The doors burst open to the sound of cheering girls. Kise was right on time.

“Ah, sorry, could you give me a moment?” the blond asked, already trying to deal with the large crowd.

The team did wait for him, most likely too shocked to even think about denying his request. Ten minutes later and Kise finally got the last pair to leave. His eyes scanned the gym, landing on Kuroko’s own after a minute.

“Kurokocchi, I almost couldn’t find you.” Kise laughed, coming over to give him a hug.

“Do you two know each other?” Riko asked.

“Kurokocchi and I used to be best friends in middle school.” Kise cheered, before he looked over at Kuroko, as if waiting for him to deny it. Kuroko did not.

Seirin seemed shocked at the revelation; a little more shocked than what Kuroko would consider polite. Not that he could blame them, they all thought he was useless. For someone like him to be friends with one of the greatest basketball players of their generation would be a little surprising.

Kise seemed to notice it as well because he stood just a little taller like he always did when he defended Kuroko from other players who had taunted him back in Teiko. “Kurokocchi taught me how to play basketball,” he said defiantly, daring anyone to say anything about it.

Now the disbelief was plastered all over their faces without any attempt to hide it, but before Kise could try to prove it, a ball came flying out of nowhere. Kise caught it just before it could hit Kuroko in the face.

“Enough of the talk, you’re supposed to be super strong, right? Play me, everyone here is pathetically weak.” Kagami’s arrogant demand rang out clearly across the court.

“That hurt.” Kise pouted. “But I suppose I can’t just ignore such an obvious challenge.” He pulled off the jacket of his uniform and handed it to Kuroko.

It wasn’t even close, not that Kuroko had thought it would be. Kise dominated the whole match, hardly giving Kagami a chance to score. He could practically see the excitement and frustration rolling of the Seirin player as Kise ended it with a dunk that Kagami couldn’t even hope to stop.

“That was a waste of my time,” Kise said as he landed. “In exchange, give me Kurokocchi.” He waited expectantly as though he couldn’t conceive his demand being denied.

In that moment, Kuroko was hit with what he’d been trying to ignore ever since the arrival of the blond. This Kise couldn’t remember the last months. Everything Kuroko had done to help him was lost, every game Kise had made him play never happened, everything was gone. The person who had become his best friend in the past months was replaced by some arrogant teenager who only wanted to win.

Nobody tried to stop him when he walked out. It wasn’t likely that anybody even noticed.

He didn’t go far. He’d only rounded a few corners before sitting down, back against the wall. He’d known that nobody would remember, it was one of the first things that had come to mind when he came back. But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less when he was faced with it.

“Kurokocchi?”

Kuroko jumped minutely. He hadn’t heard Kise approach.

“Are you crying?”

Kuroko wiped at his eyes. “You’re seeing things, Kise-kun.”

“Was it what I said? Because I meant it Kurokocchi, come play with me at Kaijo. Together, we could beat Aominecchi and Akashicchi.”

Kuroko looked up at Kise. “I refuse.”

Kise frowned, a touch of anger in his expression. “Why not? Seirin,” he sneered the name, “obviously doesn’t appreciate you. They all look down on you even though you’re ten times better.”

“Please stop talking down on my teammates.” A spark of his own anger reared its head, pushing the sadness away for just a moment.

“Why do you defend them? Even you have to see that they don’t like you.”

“I have given them no reason to like me.”

Kise stared at him for a minute before seeming to realize what Kuroko meant. “You mean you haven’t showed them yet? Why not?”

And what was he supposed to say? ‘I’m afraid because I don’t want lose my stop being invisible when I play Akashi again?’ It didn’t even make sense to him. “It’s complicated.”

There was a pause of silence before Kise took a step back. “Alright. Just know my offer still stands. We could win.”

“Is that the only reason you want to play, Kise-kun? To win?”

He didn’t know why he asked when he knew the answer. “What other reason is there?” Kise shook off the heavy mood with enviable ease and returned to his bright self. “Text me later, Kurokocchi, I missed talking to you.” He gave a last wide smile and walked off.

-M-

By the day of the match, Kuroko had pushed back most of his despair. He was focused and ready to play. That was, if Riko would let him. He was not on the starter team and he very much doubted he would be used as anything but a last resort. He’d just need to find a way to convince the coach that he wasn’t terrible. Kise came out and greeted them at the gates just like he had done the first time, and Kuroko stepped out of the way of the tackle hug directed at him. 

“Kurokocchi, so mean! Ever since you rejected me, I’ve been crying into my pillow at night. I’ve never been rejected before!” 

“Please stop being dramatic, Kise-kun, and lead us to the gym,” Kuroko said, ignoring the odd looks he was getting from his teammates.

“Of course!” And Kise led them past large buildings, reciting what each one was for like he was an official tour guide. “And here we are,” Kise called, throwing his arms out as they stood in front of the gym.

Even though Kuroko knew what he was going to see when they walked inside, it didn’t make him any less angry. The gym divided into two as if to say they weren’t worth the other school’s attention was blood boiling. The rest of the team thought so, too.

“I know it looks bad, but don’t be so angry,” Kise said to Riko. “Is he one of your starters?” Kise asked, pointing to Kuroko.

Riko shook her head.

“Then you guys really don’t have a chance. Coach just wants to get something out of today.”

Kise must’ve been angrier at Seirin than Kuroko had thought. That still didn’t excuse his rude behavior. “Kise-kun, apologize please.”

Kise walked over and wrapped his arm around Kuroko’s shoulder. “But it’s true. You’re their best player, Kurokocchi, and they aren’t even going to play you.”

Kagami was about five seconds away from punching the blond, Kuroko could tell, and he was debating on letting it happen. But he decided it would be too much trouble and so Kuroko elbowed him in the stomach instead. “You’re being very rude.”

Kise wheezed and hunched over. “Geez, that hurts worse than I remember it.” Despite his declaration of pain, Kise still laughed. “Ah, fine.” He straightened out, keeping one hand on his stomach. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that out loud, it was rude.”

Before anyone could reject the terrible apology, the fat and balding coach of Kaijo made his way over. “You guys Seirin?”

Riko was the first of them to recover from Kise. “Yes, that’s us. Are we really only playing half court?”

The coach shrugged. “My guys still need to get some practice in today.”

Riko was fuming, but she nodded in acceptance. “If someone could lead us to the locker rooms?”

“I’ll do it,” Kise volunteered, but before he could, a familiar captain called out his name.

“Kise, I swear if you’re not over here within the next ten seconds I will end you!”

Kise’s shoulders slumped, looking a little less concerned about the threat than Kuroko thought he probably should be. “I have to go. How mean of captain to separate me from Kurokocchi.” He hugged Kuroko once more. “I’ll miss you; come find me after the game.” He didn’t wait for Kuroko to give a reply, only jogged towards the other side of the court where an angry captain was waiting, yelling about how mean the other was the entire time. Kuroko smiled when Kise was kicked down.

It was a second stringer who ended up taking them to the locker rooms. He didn’t talk as much as Kise, or at all, and he left as soon as he showed them the door. Riko waited outside while they got changed, and then made her way in.

“Listen up, you are going to crush them or I will crush you.” Riko hissed at them.

Even though she was the most enthusiastic, Riko wasn’t the only one to share her sentiments. Everyone was fired up and angry. It permeated the air. Kuroko was just happy that they weren’t mad at him for being the reason Kise was upset.

After that, Riko went over the game play, one that didn’t involve Kuroko. She wanted to control the pace, take slow as to not wear themselves out. It wouldn’t work.

“Excuse me, that isn’t going to work.”

A few shouts and jumps later, a pair of narrowed eyes were on his. “How do you know that?”

“Kise-kun always sets the pace no matter what team he is a part of. He is too energetic and that leaves everyone else to keep up with him. A slow pace would be near impossible.” He didn’t mention that even if Kise wasn’t playing, underestimating Kaijo like that was a mistake. He wasn't supposed to know that yet.

Riko stared at him before nodding. “Thank you, Kuroko-kun. If we can’t set the pace, we’ll just have to try and preserve as much stamina as we can.” He could see his announcement had done something to throw everyone off balance. Perhaps it would’ve been better to keep silent.

They walked back into the gym where the other team was waiting. Kise waved at Kuroko, but was slapped on the back of the head for his efforts. The blond took his spot on the bench. This caused more than a few sighs from his fans who wanted to see their idol play.

The game started and Kagami took the tip off before taking the ball and dunking it, effectively snapping off the hoop. He stood there with it dumbly in his hands. “I guess we have to use the full court now,” Riko said sweetly to the Kaijo coach. Said coach grumbled but acquiesced, yelling out orders to prepare the full court. Kise was laughing his head off from the Kaijo bench.

The full court was soon ready for use, and Kise was substituted in. He was quick to get the ball and make a more powerful dunk of his own. The hoop didn’t break, but it was a near thing.

Just as Kuroko had said, Kise set the pace after that. He brought the ball back quickly and pressured the Seirin players into moving. By the end of the first quarter, the visiting team was exhausted. Kaijo was winning 24-18.

“We have to stop Kise,” Riko said during the break. “Kagami and Mitobe, I want you two to double team him.” Both player nodded between gulps of water. “Good, on offense, just keep driving to the basket.”

The second quarter went worse than the first one had. With Seirin so tired, it was even harder to get the ball away from Kise. The blond didn’t even seem slightly out of breath as he took the ball time after time. Kaijo took the advantage and pulled a 46-30 lead.

During halftime, Kuroko decided not to waste any more time. “Coach, please put me in for the second half,” he said during their huddle.

Everyone looked at him like he was crazy. Everyone except for Riko. She was analyzing him closely as if she could get the truth out of him if she stared long enough. “Okay.”

No one was more surprised than Kuroko that she agreed, but he was not the most vocal about it. “Are you serious?” Kagami shouted, attracting the attention of quite a few Kaijo players with his noise.

“Shut up, Kagami.” Riko then turned to Kuroko. “There’s something about you that you haven’t showed us yet, isn’t there? That’s why Kise respects you so much.”

The others were giving him appraising looks at Riko’s words, and Kuroko was profoundly uncomfortable, but he still nodded.

“Alright, Kuroko-kun, show us what you can do.” The buzzer went off, indicating it was time to start the second half. Koganei took a seat on the bench and Kuroko went onto the court.

“Seirin, you need five players!” yelled the referee.

“There are five of us.” Kuroko deadpanned.

There were quite a few shouts of surprise at his statement. Kise also shouted, but his was in excitement. “Kurokocchi, you’re playing!”

“This is the kid you won’t shut up about?” One of the Kaijo players asked, bewildered.

“Of course it is!” Kise cheered.

“Can we start the game already?” Kagami called out impatiently. The yell caused the referee to shake his head and start the game.

It was Kaijo’s ball first. It was passed in to Kasamatsu, who took the ball down the court. It was the perfect opportunity for a steal. Kuroko slid up to the taller player, reached out, and stopped. _All these people are watching you. If you do this, they’ll see it and then you’ll be worthless._ As the voice shouted, he missed his opportunity entirely and Kaijo scored. Kuroko let out an annoyed huff.

It continued for the next few minutes, and Kuroko could see the confusion on Kise’s face grow. Every pass he’d watch the ball, waiting for it to be taken away. It never was. Kuroko couldn’t do it. He looked over and saw Riko frowning. He wouldn’t get another chance if he messed this up, but he couldn’t do it.

After another unsuccessful attempt at stopping Kaijo, it was Seirin’s ball. Izuki took it down the court. Kuroko knew he was the only player open since the person that was supposed to guard him had started to double team Kagami. He knew the ball would be coming to him whether he wanted it or not.

Time seemed to slow as the ball came flying towards him. _Get out of the way!_ There was no time left, and Kuroko forced his arm to move lest the ball hit him in the face.

“Out of bounds, blue ball!”

The mutterings of confusion hit him from all sides. “Did you see that?”

“It just went in a completely different direction.”

“Maybe it hit the floor wrong?”

Kuroko stared at the floor, he blew his one chance. He knew what would happen next.

“Seirin, member change!”

He didn’t look up to see if it was him or not. He just walked over, switched spots, and then sat down on the bench. He felt someone sit next to him.

“Kuroko-kun, can I talk to you?”

He didn’t know why Riko would be interested in talking to him after the abysmal performance he just pulled, but he nodded anyways to show he was listening.

“I meant outside,” Riko clarified.

Kuroko looked at her in confusion. “You’re the coach.” Had she forgotten that her team was in the middle of a game?

Riko scoffed. “Half of Kaijo still thinks I’m the manager, they won’t miss me for a few minutes. Besides,” she looked out to the court, “I won’t be needed for a little bit.”

How could he argue with that logic? He followed her out the door.

“That’s not normally how you play, is it?” Riko asked him.

He shook his head quickly, almost desperate to let her know that he was better than what she had seen.

She didn’t say anything immediately, and Kuroko looked up from the sidewalk. He met Riko’s eyes, and just for a second, Kuroko felt like he was in his original timeline. She was looking at him like she saw him.

She looked like she understood.

“You know, Kuroko-kun,” she began, “ that I can’t put you on the court until you fix whatever your problem is? That pass, even though it was out of bounds, had potential. If it had been directed differently, nobody would intercept it because they wouldn’t be able to see it. For something like that to happen in this game is amazing. I want to play you, so you need to give me the chance.”

Kuroko knew that, he knew just how much he could help the team, and he wanted to, but he was holding himself back. “I understand.”

She hesitated. “Teiko’s phantom sixth man. That was you, wasn't it?”

Riko had always been so perceptive. “It was.” 

“The phantom rumor has been around for three years now, and yet his existence is still questioned. That the most scrutinized team was able to have any secrets is unbelievable. You have a talent, or maybe it was work that got you here, but you don’t just lose something like that. It’s a slump, but don’t act like it’s going to last forever.”

There was so much conviction in her words that Kuroko almost believed her. That maybe he didn’t know what to do, but that didn't mean there wasn't a solution somewhere. He just had to find it. He had needed to hear those words.

“Kaijo, time out!” the referee called from inside, stopping Kuroko from speaking.

“We need to go back in there, remember what I said, yeah?”

Kuroko nodded and Riko jogged back inside. He was slower to follow, there was no reason for him to hurry. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Back in the gym, it was the fourth quarter, and Seirin was losing by not an insignificant margin. 97-82. Fifteen points that were getting very hard to recover. All of the players were exhausted, but they still pushed on. Plays became sloppy, turnovers were becoming more common, and Kise was doing laps around them all. The Kaijo coach was getting smugger with each tick of the clock. Ten seconds left and Seirin pushed for one more play. Kagami broke free of his guards for just one moment and took possession of the ball. He rushed forward to dunk…….but the ball was stopped in its path by the blond miracle.

The final buzzer rang out and Kaijo had won by 18. Kuroko looked down at his feet. He tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter, but that was a lie. It was clear as he looked at Kise’s face, the arrogance that permeated everything he did. It mattered as he remembered the Kise who had come to his house at 3 in the morning because he saw an NBA game that he couldn’t wait to talk about. He had failed that Kise. His short lived good mood slowly deflated.

Seirin was packing up their things. They were all disappointed, but they weren’t upset like they had been at the championship game, and that made things easier. It allowed him to gather his own stuff and follow them out of the gym.

But nothing in Kuroko’s life was ever so simple. “Kurokocchi!” a voice called out just as Kuroko was leaving Kaijo’s grounds.

He turned to see a blond barreling towards him. He was going rather fast, was he going to…. Kuroko ended up flat on his back with the weight of someone on top of him. “Kise-kun, please get off of me.”

“Sorry Kurokocchi, but I was talking to Midorimacchi and I came back to see you were gone after you promised to wait. I had to stop you from leaving.” Kise all but shouted into Kuroko’s ear.

“That does not explain why you haven’t gotten up yet.” It was getting a little hard to breathe.

Kise sighed, but did pull himself off of Kuroko. Kuroko looked towards Seirin who were awkwardly standing there, probably wondering if they could leave. “You guys can go ahead, I will see you all tomorrow.” He had no idea how long Kise would kidnap him for.

There were a few reluctant looks, but the eventual consensus was for them to leave. Before they headed out, Riko stormed up to Kise. “I want him in my gym tomorrow in perfect shape, do you understand me?”

Kise smirked. “Of course, but isn’t it ironic, you’re acting like you care about his well-being when you didn’t even know who he was a week ago? It’s not me you should be worried about hurting him.”

Kuroko hit Kise. Again. “Please don’t worry, Riko-san, I will be at practice tomorrow,” he said with a small smile, still touched by her care even though Kise had ruined it.

With one last glare to Kise, Riko gave him a smile and left with the others. Once they were out of sight, Kuroko turned towards Kise. “You really should learn to be nicer, Kise-kun. It would save you a lot of pain.”

Kise chuckled after he caught his breath. “I’m nice to those that deserve it and Seirin doesn’t. But anyways, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

Kuroko knew exactly what was on Kise’s mind. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Kurokocchi, you played for half a quarter and you didn’t touch the ball once except for when you had to.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Kise huffed, clearly frustrated. “I thought I was going to get a good game today. I didn’t even have to try and we still won. What were you doing out there?”

Kuroko chose to stay silent rather than repeat what he had said twice already.

“You’re not downplaying yourself to be on the level of Seirin, are you?” And for the first time since they met, Kise gave Kuroko a look of disgust.

It hurt a lot more than he was willing to contemplate. “No.”

“Then what is it? You can’t pass the ball anymore?” He chuckled at his own joke, but his eyes narrowed when Kuroko didn’t deny it. “Are you serious, you can’t pass the ball anymore? But that’s all you can do, without it you might as well not even play basketball!”

Like a lot of people, Kise said things that were meant to cut deep when he got worked up. Most people assumed that Kise was happy all of the time, but Kuroko knew the blond was just better at hiding it than many. So, when he got angry, his darker thoughts took the opportunity to escape from the place in his mind where Kise kept them.

“So, what Akashicchi said about you being worthless to us now is true, then?”

When angry, Kise also had a problem remembering what others shouldn’t know. “Akashi-kun said that?” Kuroko whispered.

He saw the exact moment when Kise realized he shouldn’t have said that. His eyes widened slightly, and the excuse came pouring out. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it, Kurokocchi, he was just angry after you resigned so he said some things to vent, is all.”

It was a weak excuse, they both knew that Akashi never said anything he didn’t mean.

“I’m sorry to have disappointed you all, then. If you’ll excuse me, I should be getting home.” He bowed his head and turned around, trying to ignore the ice that pierced his heart and the stinging in his eyes.

A hand grabbed his shoulder. “Kurokocchi I shouldn’t have said that.”

No, he shouldn’t have. “It’s fine, you were just being honest.” He shrugged off the hand and left. Thankfully, Kise didn’t try to stop him.

There were at least twenty messages on his phone when he got home.

_Kurokocchi, please don’t be mad_

_I was just worked up_

_You aren’t useless, I’m sure you’ll be able to pass again soon_

Kuroko hit delete on all of them. He took a deep breath as he sat down on the couch. He wished Nigou was around, the little dog could always calm him down. But he was alone, and he was feeling it more than he ever had. His head sunk in his hands. What was he going to do because clearly what he was doing wasn’t working?

Now more than ever giving up wasn’t an option, but some direction would be nice.

-M-

Eventually, the constant texts from Kise became too much for his sanity and his phone bill, and Kuroko blocked him. Kise’s next move was to come to his house, and Kuroko hoped the other got the message when he pretended like he wasn’t home.

Riko seemed relieved to see him the next day at practice, which was a vast improvement in their relationship compared to a few weeks prior.

He still wasn’t allowed to play in any games. Though, in the first part of the preliminaries, he really wasn’t needed. Shinkyo was the biggest threat by far, and with Kagami blocking Papa, Seirin won 69-61. The next few matches passed quickly and easily.

Just as Seirin won against Meijo, Kuroko was reminded of where he met Midorima for the first time since middle school in the original timeline. He watched as the Shutoku team stormed through the doors. Most of the Shutoku players had the intimidating height that was common in basketball players, but the image was completely ruined by the two at the back of the line. First, was Takao who was having trouble breathing due to the fact that he was laughing so hard. And then there was Midorima, who was carrying a small teddy bear dressed in a karate outfit. With those two, it was hard to be intimidated.

As soon as he saw them, Kagami got up to go greet them. In this timeline, Kuroko’s relationship with brash player was almost nonexistent. Kagami wouldn’t acknowledge him because he was weak and yet tried to play anyways. Nevertheless, Kuroko followed the other to hopefully keep him out of trouble.

The large number of Shutoku reserve players were chanting in the background, so it was a little hard to hear just how Kagami decided to greet Midorima, but Kuroko sure didn’t miss when Kagami wrote his name on Midorima’s hand.

“You look like the kind of guy,” Kagami started, “that would claim to not remember me if I only told you my name.”

Midorima looked absolutely stunned, and so Kuroko decided to interrupt before the shock became anger. “Kagami-kun, that was rude.”

The only startled one was Kagami, the other two just turned towards him in recognition. “When did you get here?” Kagami shouted.

“I have been here the whole time.”

“Well, go back!”

“I need to make sure you don’t cause us to be thrown out of the gym, Kagami-kun.”

Kagami’s reply was interrupted by Takao laughing. “Man, you guys are too funny. Aren’t they, Shin-chan?”

Midorima ignored his friend. “Kuroko," he greeted.

“Midorima-kun, how are you?” Kuroko asked for lack of anything better to say.

“Kise won’t stop bothering me.” He gave Kuroko a look that told the phantom player just what Kise was bothering him about.

“That is very much like Kise-kun.”

Before Midorima had a chance to reply, the Shutoku captain yelled at his two players to stop talking and get themselves over to the bench.

“Well, that’s our cue, Shin-chan! It was nice to meet you two!” Takao called to them before dragging a reluctant Midorima behind him.

Kagami scoffed at the retreating figures before heading back to the team, leaving Kuroko alone in the middle of the gym.

They stayed to watch the game because many of the Seirin players became too confident in themselves, and it went just how Kuroko remembered it. It was not a close match. Seirin had almost visibly deflated. “We’re going to be crushed,” Koganei said in a depressed voice.

He was smacked on the back of his head, and Kuroko took the commotion as an opportunity to sneak away. He walked out of the gym and towards exit. He stopped by one of the vending machines and started to wait. It wasn’t long before he could see the mass of orange approach. Two green eyes met his surprisingly quickly, it seemed the other knew they’d be having a conversation.

Midorima, in no uncertain terms, told his team to keep on moving and to not wait for him. It was only Takao who hesitated, but when he saw Kuroko he accepted that it was some ‘weird miracle thing’ and caught up to the rest of his team.

Instead of a greeting, Midorima pulled out his phone. The screen lit up with the message _15 new messages._ “Text him back so he will stop bothering me,” Midorima said.

“I am not speaking with Kise-kun at the moment.”

“Did he finally say something stupid enough to push you away? It was only a matter of time, Kise’s an idiot.” Midorima pushed up his glasses.

This was not what he wanted to talk about. “I’ll tell Kise-kun to stop messaging you.”

“Good.” Midorima, seemingly satisfied, started to leave.

“Midorima-kun?” Kuroko called out.

The other stopped walking away, he raised an eyebrow in question.

“If you were unable to make your shots, what would you do?” Kuroko didn’t really have any interest in telling someone about his problems, but he was running out of options.

“That wouldn’t happen.”

“This is a hypothetical situation, anything could happen.”

“Even in the worst case scenario, I would never miss a shot,” Midorima stated.

Kuroko wanted to roll his eyes, but he refrained. “Please, Midorima-kun, pretend that you were unable to shoot the ball no matter how unlikely it would be.”

“It wouldn’t happen and I’ll tell you why. I do everything in my power to ensure the luckiest outcome, but that is not all I do. I practice my shots every day without fail until I am satisfied with the result. With the combination of the two, I will never miss a shot. In the unrealistic hypothetical that I did, I would quit basketball just as every self-respecting player would do. Now, if that is all.” Midorima slung his bag over his shoulder while keeping hold of his teddy bear and exited the building like the others had only a few minutes ago.

Kuroko sighed, it seemed that going to Midorima about basketball advice was not the best choice. He wasn’t going to quit, he would find a way to play basketball with Seirin again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm really sorry about being kind of late, I was meant to post last weekend, but some things came up and I couldn't. That being said, chapters are probably gonna start coming a little more spaced out because I'm through most of my pre-written stuff. Thank you for the support with this story, it's what really keeps me writing and editing.


	6. Two part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking a break to figure things out, Kuroko meets new friends and rediscovers an old one

Kuroko hated silence. That might seem odd coming from him, but he knew better than anyone that most silences only came at the worst times. Silence, especially within a group, was unsettling.

“Come on, guys, there’s always next time.” Riko tried to sound positive, but it was easy to see that her heart wasn’t in it.

“That’s what we said last year,” Hyuuga muttered.

“At least it’s better than last year,” Izuki said half-heartedly.

“Yeah, at least we only lost to Seiho by 40 instead of 110 this time,” Koganei remarked sarcastically.

“Stop it! Yes, we lost again, but it doesn’t matter anymore. We might be done this season, but there’s always next year to try again. And I promise that I’ll have you all in top shape so that we’ll be the winners next time!” There were tears falling from Riko’s eyes.

And though it didn’t seem to convince any of them, it was enough to get them all out of the locker room to go find Kagami who had stormed out long ago and begin the long trek home. Kuroko trailed behind miserably. He got another chance and he was wasting it. The game was important to the seniors, and he couldn’t even pull it together. There had to be something he could do.

-M-

His answer did not come to him until the arrival of Kiyoshi Teppei. Kiyoshi was just as happy and bright as he had always been. Not even their loss seemed to phase him too much.

“That’s too bad, we’ll just have to keep working so we can play next year!” It was astounding, the level of optimism that he had.

Because of this, Kuroko decided to ask him the same thing he’d asked Midorima.

“If I suddenly couldn’t play basketball? What a strange situation. Well, I suppose I’d just keep playing anyways!”

Sometimes Kuroko felt like talking to Kiyoshi was a lost cause. “Thank you for your time.” Kuroko bowed.

“No problem. Hey, do you want to come to the courts with me? There’s usually some people playing around this time.” Kiyoshi asked.

Kuroko considered it, and found that he didn’t really have a reason not to, so he agreed.

Just as Kiyoshi had said, there were a few people playing when they got to the courts, none of whom Kuroko recognized.

“Hey guys, mind if we play?” Kiyoshi called out.

The group paused their game. “Kiyoshi, when did you get back?” One of them called back. Kuroko took a good look at him. Tall, brown hair, and blue eyes. Nope, he’d never met him before.

“Just a little while ago actually. Anyways, our school is out of the tournament, so we were wondering if you would mind two more?”

“Ah, not to be rude Kiyoshi, but who are the ‘we’ you keep talking about?” The other guy looked around.

Kuroko supposed it was time to make himself known. “Hello, my name is Kuroko Tetsuya.”

The stranger jumped. “Holy-“ He looked down with wide eyes. “Where did you come from?”

“I have been here the entire time.”

The stranger laughed once he got over his shock. “That’s pretty cool. My name’s Minami Nao. Nice to meet you!”

Minami Nao was remarkably similar to Kiyoshi. So much so, that Kuroko would not be surprised to find out if they were related in some way. Both were very cheerful and accepting people as evidenced by the arm thrown around Kuroko’s shoulder as Minami introduced him to the others. “The one that looks bored is Yamamoto Satoru. Don’t let his face fool you, he just doesn’t know how to use it, he’s a pretty happy dude.” Kuroko wasn’t too sure if he believed that information based on the absolutely unimpressed look they received from said person. “And then there’s Hayashi Daisuke. He’s on the boxing team, so don’t ever make him angry.” Kuroko got a polite ‘hello’ from Hayashi, so he returned it. “But enough talking, let’s play some basketball!”

They decided to play three on two with the teams being Minami, Yamamoto, and Hayashi, versus Kiyoshi and Kuroko. Minami was the point guard, Yamamoto was their shooting guard, and Hayashi played defense. The three worked like a well-oiled machine, and with Kuroko’s current problem, his team was being thoroughly trounced. After they were well and truly losing, Kiyoshi pulled him off to the side.

“Okay Kuroko, I don’t mean to be pushy, but if you could participate a little more that would be great. If I lose here, these three aren’t going to let me live it down.” Kiyoshi pouted in the ridiculous way of his.

“I am sorry for my inadequacy.”

Kiyoshi back-pedaled. “No, no, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. It’s just I’m better at defense, so any help would be good, okay?” Kiyoshi smiled at him.

Kuroko nodded and the game started back up. For a while, nothing changed. Every time he made a move to interfere, the voice would come roaring back. He wanted it to stop. There was nothing to worry about. If he were so afraid of being useless, then he wouldn’t stop himself from using misdirection. And right now Kiyoshi needed him to play. With this in mind, Kuroko raised his hands to ask for the ball for the first time of the game. Kiyoshi had never had too much of a problem noticing Kuroko, and so the ball was soon sent his way. His mind was screaming at him to get out of the way, but he kept his feet planted. He could do this.

The ball came within his reach and he tapped it, sending it spinning into a surprised Kiyoshi’s hands, who then used the shock of the others to score. He’d done it.

The feeling of elation was quick to become dread. He’d done it. Now everybody would see what he had done. He’d be useless. They’d all see him for the disappointment that he was. His legs weren’t supporting him anymore; he was on the ground. He couldn’t get any air. He couldn’t breathe.

There were voices, but he couldn’t hear what any of them were saying. Not until someone crouched down right in front of him. “Kuroko, can you hear me?” It was Minami. “Kuroko, you need to breathe.”

Kuroko knew that, but there was no air, surely Minami knew that?

“Take a deep breath for me.”

Kuroko tried to pull in a breath, surprised that he was able.

“That’s good, hold it for four seconds and then let it go.”

Kuroko did as he was told.

“Just keep breathing.”

After a few minutes, his senses were starting to return to him. He could feel his heart stop trying to burst out of his chest.

“We were going to go grab some food after this, did you want to come?”

They wanted him to come? Kuroko nodded.

“Cool. Any suggestions as to where you want to go?”

Kuroko wasn’t very hungry, he never really was, so he felt like it’d be unfair for him to pick the restaurant. He shrugged.

“Maji Burger is pretty close, that okay with you?”

He nodded, he’d never turn down a vanilla shake.

“Great, ready to go?”

Kuroko was suddenly aware of how tightly he was grabbing his legs. He pried them off, leaving behind little crescent shaped marks. He looked up from the ground to see Minami waiting for his answer. Kuroko grew embarrassed. What a terrible first impression he’d made. He nodded, and picked himself up off of the ground. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Minami grinned at him. “Don’t mention it. I sent the other guys ahead to go grab a table. We should probably hurry before Daisuke eats everything in the place.”  
They walked in a comfortable silence. Minami did not attempt to bring up what had happened, for which Kuroko was grateful.

They arrived at their destination to see the three others sitting at a round table. They were arguing.

“Go back to America, Teppei, you’re infecting me with your stupidity.”

“Satoru, you’re so mean to me!” Kiyoshi called out.

“It’s not mean when it’s true. Only a stupid person would think that French fries are only made in France.”

“Then why are they called French fries?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“So you’re saying that I could be right?”

“No fighting guys, you’re going to get us in trouble.” Minami laughed, gesturing towards the employee giving them an exasperated look.

“Then please tell him to keep his mouth shut,” Yamamoto said.

“Come on now, Satoru, Teppei’s been gone so long he’s got a year of comments to make up for.”

“Please don’t say that, he’ll take it as an invitation,” Yamamoto said miserably.

Kuroko watched this easy friendship between the four and wondered how he hadn’t seen it before. He’d been close to Kiyoshi in the first timeline, and knew nothing about it. Why hadn’t Kiyoshi said anything?

“Kuroko, ready to go order food?” Minami asked.

Kuroko put the thoughts away for later contemplation and he followed Minami to the counter.

“That’s all you’re getting?” Hayashi asked as Kuroko returned to the table with his shake.

“Not everyone can eat as much as you can, Daisuke.”

“I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who eat as much as I do.” Hayashi defended his stack of burgers.

“It’s true. I’ve met many people who eat more than that,” Kuroko spoke, surprised with his own forwardness.

Hayashi’s eyes lit up. “See! Kuroko knows.” He put up his hand for a high five, and Kuroko returned it.

Yamamoto rolled his eyes, but let the topic drop.

The next thirty minutes were nice. The conversation flowed freely about whatever was on anyone’s mind. Kuroko even spoke up a few times. It was nice to be a part of something that didn’t feel so stressful. It was nice to just relax.

As the last of the food disappeared, Kuroko was almost disappointed. He didn’t want it to end quite yet.

“So, Kuroko, are you going to come hang out again? You’re better company than Teppei ever was,” Yamamoto asked.

He smiled as Kiyoshi feigned hurt. “That would be nice, thank you.”

-M-

After that, Kuroko began to hang out with the group of four. At first it took quite a bit of Kiyoshi’s pestering before Kuroko would agree to join them as he felt awkward intruding on a friendship that was more than a decade in the making. But as time went on and the others seemed to genuinely enjoy their company, Kuroko started to feel less like an intruder. It was very different than anything that he had ever had, but Kuroko enjoyed it. 

He arrived at the park exactly on time as he usually did, Nigou trailing behind him. Already waiting for him were Hayashi and Yamamoto because both of them always insisted on being at least ten minutes early to everything. Kuroko supposed this balanced out the perpetual lateness of Kiyoshi and Minami.   
The two on the bench greeted him which he returned before sitting down to wait. 

Fifteen minutes later, Kiyoshi arrived. “Hey guys!”

“Do you ever actually plan on arriving on time?” Yamamoto asked.

“Ah, sorry about that.”

“That wasn’t even an answer!”

They were interrupted by Minami’s arrival. He looked uncharacteristically angry. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Hayashi asked him.

“I can’t find my phone,” he answered as he picked up Kuroko’s bag and began rummaging through it. 

“Oi, you can’t just go through other people’s things because you were careless,” Yamamoto yelled at him.

“Ah, Nao, I’m sure that’s unnecessary. Where did you last have it?” Kiyoshi asked,

Minami stopped his little raid to sit down and think. “Well, I had it yesterday when we planned to meet here. And I had it at practice because….. I know where it is! It’s in my gym locker!”

“Great, mystery solved. Let’s talk about something else,” Hayashi said.

“No! You don’t understand. I need that phone today.”

“You just said it’s in your locker. It’ll be fine until tomorrow.”

“Maybe. But, I gave a girl my number yesterday. If she texts me and I don’t answer, it’ll make me seem bad.”

“Or you could just explain that you didn’t have your phone on you,” Yamamoto deadpanned.

“Come on, Satoru, we can’t just let Nao leave a bad impression like that. This could be his future wife we’re talking about,” Kiyoshi said in support of his friend.

“We are not breaking into a school!”

“Well, if we get caught, we’ll be able to explain ourselves. We wouldn’t get in too much trouble,” Hayashi said as he stood up and walked over to where the other two were.

“See, Satoru, Daisuke understands. What about you, Tetsuya?” Minami asked him.

Kuroko was very aware of how bad of an idea breaking into a school was. However, “We can probably get in without being caught,” he said as he joined the others.

He received two enthusiastic cheers for his effort, and then they all turned expectantly towards Yamamoto. 

“You’re all idiots,” Yamamoto said as he too joined them.

“Oh yeah! Let’s break into a school!”

“Don’t say it so loud, you moron.”

-M-

Touou was as intimidating as it always was, and Kuroko was only grateful that Aomine wouldn’t be caught dead at school on a weekend. The group of four walked up to the main gates of the school.

“They seem taller than usual,” Hayashi said as he looked up.

“So, here’s the plan. You guys are going to boost me and Tetsuya up over the fences, and we’ll head inside to look for the phone while you guys stay and be the lookouts. Once we have the phone, I’ll boost Tetsuya back over and he’ll pull me up. After that, we’ll all be out of here. It’s foolproof.”

“What are we going to do about the cameras?” Hayashi asked pointing out several cameras pointed in their direction.

Minami faulted for a second. “Well, I’m sure nobody’s watching them since it’s the weekend. I mean, it’s not like people regularly break into schools.”

“We’re going to get arrested,” Yamamoto said with his face in his hands.

“Don’t be so pessimistic.”

“If we are going to do this, we should probably get started,” Kuroko reminded them.

With the combined strength of Yamamoto, Kiyoshi, and Hayashi, getting over the fence wasn’t as big as a problem as it had originally looked to be. The two were over and on their way into the school in no time.

Walking through empty school grounds was slightly unnerving, but he’d done it enough before that he could ignore it. What bothered him more was the fact that this was Minami’s school and Minami was on the same team as Aomine. And if that was true, then why could Kuroko not remember him? Why hadn’t he seen Kiyoshi interact with him?

It was a startling reminder that the world was bigger than just him and those he knew. He resolved to pay more attention this time.

“Here we are!” Minami cheered as they reached the gym. Of course, it was locked, but Minami knew where they kept the key so getting access was no big deal.

Minutes later, and the two were on their way out with the phone in hand. 

“I can’t believe she hasn’t texted me yet. I guess this whole thing was a waste, huh?”

Yamamoto was going to kill them all.

The pair reached the gates to find only Nigou waiting for them. Where were the others?

“Did they actually ditch us?” Minami asked in disbelief.

Not quite able to believe it, the two pulled themselves back over the fence. As soon as they landed, they looked around for the others. And there, standing just out of view, were the missing members of their escapade. 

Next to them were two police officers.

They had been caught.

-M-

After explaining themselves multiple times, the cops had decided not to arrest them. But since they were all minors, they weren’t allowed to leave without an adult. And until that time arrived, they’d be sitting in a cell.

“You absolute idiot. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this. Do you know how much trouble I am going to be in?”

“Satoru, if you keep pacing like that, you’ll put holes in the floor and the cops will think we’re trying to escape.” Kiyoshi laughed.

Yamamoto needed to be physically restrained.

Minami did seem apologetic for what happened, which was probably what stopped a full on rampage.

Hayashi, for his part, seemed like he had expected this the entire time. 

Kuroko watched this with empty eyes as he thought about what he was going to do. He had given the cops his uncle’s number, but he didn’t know how much help it would be considering the man wasn’t even in the country at the moment. Would they let him leave without his guardian? If not, how many days were they allowed to keep him in jail?

“Hey, Tetsuya, you doing alright over there? I’m sure your parents won’t be too mad.”

Kuroko blinked back into awareness. “My guardian isn’t currently in the country,” he said in explanation.

“What are they gonna do with you, then?”

“I am not sure.”

Minami immediately looked guilty. “I’m so sorry. This whole thing was stupid.”

“Minami-kun, I was the one who chose to come.”

“But still- I know! I can ask my parents to take you home, too!”

Kuroko wasn’t sure they would be allowed to do that, but didn’t really want to ruin Minami’s newfound good mood, so he nodded.\

“Yamamoto Satoru, your parents are here.” They all looked up at the cop outside of the cell.

Yamamoto looked like he’d almost rather stay, but eventually rose with the stance of a man headed for the gallows. He shot one last glare at Minami before walking out of view with the cop.

The yelling was terrifying. And extremely loud, “YAMAMOTO SATORU, I CAN NOT BELIEVE I AM PICKING MY SON UP IN A JAIL. I ALMOST HAD A HEART ATTACK WHEN I GOT THE PHONE CALL. HOW IDIOTIC DO YOU HAVE TO BE TO TRY AND BREAK INTO A SCHOOL. DID YOU THINK YOU HAD TOO MUCH FREE TIME? WELL LET ME TELL YOU, YOU WON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THAT ANYMORE FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!”

Kuroko said a silent prayer for Yamamoto’s soul.

Eventually the yeling died down, and the three in the cell shared a look.

“Do you think we’ll ever see him again?” Hayashi asked.

Even the most optimistic of them didn’t have an answer.

“Kuroko Tetsuya, your guardian is here.”

He could feel the confused looks shot his way, but he really didn’t have an answer to give. He knew his uncle was out of the country, so who was waiting for him?

“I thought you said your guardian was out of the country.”

“He is.”

“Kuroko Tetsuya,” the officer called impatiently. 

“Text us later, yeah?” Minami looked worried.

Kuroko nodded before following the cop out.

Out of everyone he was expecting, Aomine Emiko was probably at the bottom of the list, but there she was, holding his dog. And then he felt stupid for feeling surprised at all. After he and Daiki had become friends, his uncle had given her the power to act as his guardian when he was away. He had forgotten about that; it seemed like decades ago.

“Aomine-san.”

“Tetsuya, let’s get out of here, okay?”

He followed the woman out, and took the time to see how she had changed since he had last seen her. Aomine Emiko still looked nothing like her son. She had long black hair and pale skin. Her features were delicate, and she was of average height for a woman. Perhaps she had aged slightly, but she was still the same woman he remembered. 

“If I had been asked to place a bet on which of my children I’d be told to come get out of a jail cell, it would’ve been Daiki.”

Kuroko felt himself blush. “I am sorry for the trouble I caused.”

“I know you are.” She laughed. “So, how important was this cell phone that you needed to break into a school?”

“He thought it was very important.”

She smiled at him. “I’m glad you’ve found friends that you think are worth going to jail for, then.”

The pair reached the bus stop soon after. “Now, technically I am supposed to take you home with me, but I have a feeling you don’t really want to come to my house. So, do you think you can stay out of trouble from here?”

“Of course.”

She pulled him into a tight hug. “You know, just because Daiki’s done something stupid that’s made you upset, doesn’t mean you need to ignore me. I’ve missed talking to you.”

“I’m sorry.” Because he had no excuse. He had missed her too. He had thought that she wouldn’t want to see him because he wasn’t friends with Aomine despite knowing that she thought of him as her son. 

She gave him a last squeeze before letting go. “And make sure you bring this cutie with you when you do come visit,” she said bending down to pet Nigou.

He stayed with her until the bus came. “I expect to hear from you soon.”

“You will.”

As he watched the bus pull out, his phone rang.

“Tetsuya, are you okay? You didn't answer my texts. You weren’t taken by a killer or something, right?” Minami asked him worriedly.

The thought of Aomine Emiko trying to kill someone almost made him laugh. “Not a killer, just an old friend.”

-M-

It took a few weeks before Yamamoto was properly talking to Minami again, but once he was, things mostly returned back to the way they had been before. As it turned out, almost getting arrested was a great bonding experience, and the group was closer because of it. Minami liked to say that had been the plan the whole time.

Yamamoto punched him for his efforts. 

It was only a few weeks before the Winter Cup would begin and Kuroko walked up the steps in front of Minami’s house. He knocked softly, and didn’t even have to wait ten seconds before the door swung open.

“Tetsuya!” He was greeted cheerfully.

“Hello, Minami-san,” he said to the short woman. Minami Haru was Minami’s mother, and had a bright personality bigger than her short stature.

“Ah, Tetsuya, you make me feel so old. How many times must I ask you to call me Haru?”

“I apologize, Minami-san.”

She hit him softly on the shoulder. “Very funny. The others are waiting for you upstairs, so you better get going; who knows what they’re getting up to.”

Kuroko gave a small nod and headed up to Minami’s room. There was a lot of noise coming from the other side of the door, but that wasn’t surprising. With no hesitation, he pushed open the door.

Hayashi was sitting at the computer as he usually was, playing some game Kuroko had only tried once before realizing he was absolutely terrible.

Yamamoto was laying on Minami’s bed, texting someone, most likely his girlfriend.

Minami himself was sitting in the corner of the room, looking about ready to explode from laughter, Kuroko didn’t even want to know what that was about.

That still left one. “Where’s Kiyoshi?”

Minami broke out into a fit of laughter, literally rolling around on the floor, Hayashi hadn’t seemed to have heard him, too invested in his game, and Yamamoto rolled his eyes. “The idiot got himself stuck under the bed,” Yamamoto said.

Kuroko looked down at the floor where he could indeed see a hand poking out. “Hey, Tetsuya,” a muffled voice called.

He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. “Kiyoshi-kun, why are you under the bed?” That seemed like a good place to start. He wasn’t sure how this was thought to be a good idea. While Minami’s bed was more lofted than most, it still wasn’t enough to fit a person underneath.

“I was trying to prove that the best place to hide from an intruder was under the bed, and now I’m stuck.”

Minami’s face was turning an alarming shade of red.

“Oh.” Kuroko just accepted that these were his friends and sat down in the spare chair next to Hayashi, watching him easily destroy his opponent.

Once Minami had calmed down enough to speak properly, he turned towards Kuroko. “Hey, Tetsuya, got any idea what we should do today?”

Kuroko shrugged, anything he’d come up with wouldn’t be nearly as entertaining as what a bored Minami could.

“I don’t care, as long as it doesn’t get us arrested," Yamamoto snarked.

“Almost arrested,” Hayashi corrected.

“How about we play basketball?” Kiyoshi asked a little hesitantly from his place under the bed.

He was surprised someone had brought that up. After his little freak-out a few months back, the others didn’t really talk about basketball around him. He knew they still played in their own time, but never when he was around. “That’s fine.”

Minami grinned at him. “Sweet!”

Before they could go to the courts, they needed to get Kiyoshi out from under the bed. It was easy enough to lift it with the four of them, and out came a very dusty Kiyoshi. “Thanks!”

Minami almost dropped the bed when he started laughing again.

It was cold out, though that was normal for the time of year. Minami made his complaints known, saying that he could only thrive in tropical weather.

“Then move.”

The courts were empty, though they had expected this considering that most basketball players were practicing for the Winter Cup. Between the four of them, the only one who should be doing the same thing was Minami, but he said that the chances of him playing in the tournament were zero so he might as well get something more productive out of his day.

Kuroko had chosen to watch the game rather than participate. It was Minami and Kiyoshi versus Yamamoto and Hayashi. Minami and Kiyoshi were winning, but only slightly.

It was an interesting game. Those four had known each other for years, and it was seen in the way they played. Minami would jump to block Yamamoto before the other even made a move to shoot because he just knew what would happen. Hayashi would toss the ball behind him without even looking because he was confident his teammate would be behind him. This was what basketball was supposed to be.

It made Kuroko itch to play in a way he hadn’t felt since the original timeline. And a thought came to him. He could, there was nothing to stop him. He trusted these four, they wouldn’t hate him if he couldn’t do it. They didn’t hold him to unreasonable expectations. He watched as Hayashi didn’t even come close to making the basket. Nobody put him down. Nobody would put him down.

“Can I play?” he asked them next time they took a break.

Four surprised faces looked at him. “Sure,” Minami was the first to recover.

He was put with Hayashi and Yamamoto. The game started and his breath started to quicken. He was fine, he reminded himself. His arms started to shake, and he forced them to stop. Nothing bad would happen. But then Kuroko realized something: he wasn’t scared, he was excited.

Kiyoshi scored, and Hayashi brought the ball out. Yamamoto was covered, Kuroko was going to get the ball. He didn’t hesitate as he pushed the ball under Kiyoshi’s legs and into Yamamoto’s hands. A laugh escaped him as the basket was made. He had done it!

“That was so cool!” Minami cheered.

“How is that even possible?” Yamamoto questioned.

Hayashi hummed in agreement.

Kiyoshi looked proud, as if he knew this would happen. “Are we going to keep playing?”

His team pulled ahead, and with the three of them working together, they pulled a victory.

“Man, Tetsuya, why haven’t you done that before, that was sick!” Hayashi enthused as they were heading back to Minami’s house since his mother had promised to make them dinner if they could show up on time for it.

He wasn’t sure how to explain because he knew that his reasoning was a bit ridiculous. “Something happened where I couldn’t use those moves anymore because I was afraid I would lose them. My invisibility is all I have, I couldn’t lose it.”

“That’s dumb,” Hayashi frowned, “you still catch us off guard and we’ve known you forever, I don’t think you can even lose your invisibility. Or not for long if you ever do.”

“What he said, besides if he was right, I’m sure you playing without invisibility is much better than what Teppei can do.” Yamamoto gave the brunette a look.

Kuroko smiled as everyone moved on like nothing had changed. This was what he had been looking for all these months.

-M- 

It was the day before the Winter Cup officially started, and Seiren was playing an unofficial match with another school that hadn’t qualified. But it didn’t matter that the match meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, it meant something to Kuroko.

During warmups, he walked over to Riko. He had been trying to do this for the past week, and it was now or never. “Riko-san.”

She hardly even twitched at his arrival. “Kuroko-kun, what can I do for you?” By the look of the glint in her eyes, she knew what he was going to ask.

“I want to play.”

Her face broke out into a smile. “Have you got everything figured out now?”

“I do.”

“I’m happy for you, Kuroko-kun.”

The buzzer rang. Everybody gathered. “Quick change of plans,” Riko started, “Mitobe, you’re out for now.”

Mitobe accepted this fairly easily. “Who’s starting?” Koganei asked in his stead.

“Kuroko.”

Kagami was the one to protest, but he was shut down swiftly. “I’m the coach, I can do whatever I want.”

Kuroko walked out with the other starters, feeling more at ease than he had expected to. A hand landed on his shoulder. He turned, it was Kiyoshi. “You good?” Kiyoshi asked.

If he wasn’t alright, Kiyoshi would be the first to know. He wouldn’t judge if Kuroko said he wasn’t fine, if he wanted to get off the court. He didn’t have to hide anything. “I am good.”

Kiyoshi beamed.

The game started and Seirin won the tip off. Kagami drove the ball down the court and made a quick two points. The opposing team brought the ball back. Kuroko got close to the point guard. This was his chance. He reached out…..

“Did you see that?”

“It was like the ball moved on its own!”

“Did Seiren do something?”

“But none of them moved!”

Kuroko had to fight to keep the grin off of his face. It was good to be back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kiyoshi totally knew what he was doing. Hope you don't mind the oc's too much, I know some people hate them, but I needed them for the story. Let me know your thoughts. Thanks for reading!


	7. Nineteen Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midorima is consistently late and learns some things because of it

Midorima Shintaro had always known that he and Kuroko Tetsuya would never truly get along. They were too different to form a functional friendship. It had been clear ever since Akashi had dragged a blue haired player on the court and said that he would be joining them in first string.

It had been nothing personal, it was simply Kuroko’s existence that Midorima had problems with. Ever since he was young, Midorima had seen that there were clear roles and expectations for everyone, and that nobody ever strayed too far from them. Some expectations were pushed onto them by society, family, or even themselves, but they were there.

So, when a scrawny, out of place looking boy was to join them on the first string, Midorima knew there would be problems.

Kuroko looked as though a particularly strong gust of wind would knock him over, yet he was strong. His quiet demeanor would point to a weak will, but he was so stubborn it was almost unbearable.

And perhaps the walking contradiction that was Kuroko wouldn’t bother him so much if things didn’t end up working out for the blue haired boy. After all, there would always be idiots that tried to defy their fate, but things never ended up well for them. But up until their third year, Kuroko faced no negative consequences for his efforts.

And it all irritated Midorima to no end.

“Shin-chan, you know if we both walked we would get there faster, right? At this rate, we aren’t even going to get to see any of the game.”

Midorima ignored Takao as his somewhat reasonable concerns became complaints, he’d heard enough of them to know what the other was saying. It was not his fault that Takao had lost the round of rock-paper-scissors and had to pull the rickshaw.

Though, as he looked to his watch, he could see that the other had a slight point. The game would already be well past halftime, and they still had a ways to go. Making a decision, Midorima stepped out of the cart, making the whole thing wobble dangerously. The disgruntled shout was also ignored as Midorima headed in the direction of his former teammate’s school.

Kaijo was flashy. That was the first thing he noticed the second he stepped on the grounds. The buildings were taller than any of their surroundings, roofs painted in a blue that was sure to catch eyes. The grass was well kept, and almost assuredly fake. The sidewalks were perfectly paved and almost unbelievably clean.

It was a good school for Kise.

Midorima walked towards the gym, not rushing even if he was very late. He neared the doors just as they were thrown open and a figure ran out. Midorima glanced at the retreating figure. Annoyingly blond hair caught his attention. It had to be Kise. The game must have been over. Midorima went in the direction of the former Teiko player.

Kise didn’t go far, only to the water fountain situated on the back of the building. As Midorima approached, he noticed that Kise was crying. He stopped. Were they happy or sad tears? He couldn’t determine that. The best course of action would be to pretend he hadn’t seen until he could gather further information.

“Kise.”

Kise lifted his head from under the stream of water quickly and turned around. He smiled. “Midorimacchi.”

The tears were sad, then. Kise cried on an almost daily basis from what he remembered, and never once had he tried to hide that fact. He was trying to pretend the tears weren’t there right now, so they were sad. That left only one conclusion.

“Oha Asa had said a Gemini’s luck would not be good today, but I had not thought you would lose.” There was a small voice in the back of his head calling him a liar. He did not acknowledge it.

Kise shrugged in a thoroughly annoying way. Was he shrugging off his loss as nothing? Midorima couldn’t accept that, and he was going to say so, but Kise spoke first. “I wasn’t ready. I had thought I knew Kurokocchi. I was wrong, he’s different.”

Kise wasn’t shouting, and he wasn’t bouncing around like a rabbit, and that was what caught Midorima’s attention more than the words spoken. Kise was rarely serious or straight faced; he called it boring. So when he was, it was best to listen.

“How much difference could a few months make?” The words were disbelieving in tone, but Midorima knew better than anyone what a few months could do.

“I….don’t know.” Kise ran a hand through his hair, letting it stick in all directions. “He plays the same way, acts the same way, but something is different. It’s like he’s……holding back?”

“He has no reason to hold back; he thinks such a thing is an insult.” 

“Don’t you think I know that? But there’s something going on with him.”

“Even if that were true, it’s not like he’s our problem anymore.” The thought was a slightly bitter one. For better or for worse, they had been his teammates for three years. It was strange that they weren’t going to be ever again.

“It’s not like we aren’t allowed to care just because we go to different schools.” Kise sounded like it should be obvious.

“What would caring do for us now?”

“What….What do you mean? Are you saying that there has to be a reason to care for someone? That there has to be some sort of gain?” Kise’s voice was steadily rising.

“Everything has some sort of gain or loss, it would be wrong to think otherwise.”

“Not everything has to be some kind of win or lose situation! Thinking like that was why last year happened!”

Midorima’s eyes narrowed. That was uncalled for. “You were every much a part of last year as the rest of us.”

“Shin-chan! You left me behind! Do you know how dumb I looked?”

“If you were that concerned, you shouldn’t have made us late.”

Takao made his way over after parking the bike. “I already said that wasn’t my fault.” He laughed, before turning to Kise. “Are you Shin-chan’s friend?” he asked even though Midorima knew Takao knew exactly who was standing in front of them.

“Yep! Midorimacchi and I go way back!” Kise looked back to Midorima. “I better get back to my team. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” He gave them one last bright smile before going back towards the gym.

“Jeez, what did you do to piss him off?” Takao asked as soon as Kise was out of earshot.

Midorima did not answer him, mostly because he was somewhat unsure himself. He knew why Kise was angry: Midorima had said he didn’t care, but he’d been saying that for three years, maybe even longer and it never managed to make Kise quite that angry. Something must have happened to the blond and Midorima had stepped on his foot unknowingly. He mentally shrugged. There was nothing he could do to fix it now. He walked over to the rickshaw and got ready to step in.

“Hold on! I only lost the game for the ride here.” Takao stuck out his fist. “Play me for the ride back.”

Midorima very nearly rolled his eyes. Takao had never won rock paper scissors, and he wasn’t about to start. He was just wasting both of their time. Nevertheless, he acquiesced and stuck out his fist.

Takao did not win.

“I don’t get how you do it, Shin-chan. It’s not possible for someone to be that lucky,” Takao complained as he got on the bike.

As Midorima was going to tell the other to be quiet, he noticed a slightly uneasy feeling creeping up. Someone was watching them. Casually, he glanced around before his eyes landed on the most likely source. Seirin was getting on their bus, and there was only one person on that team that would escape Midorima’s notice for as long as he had.

It was harder to spot him than it used to be, but it was not impossible. Blue hair was hard to miss no matter whose head it was on. And there. Blue eyes set in a disinterested face, watching.

“Are you going to go say hi?”

Midorima tore his eyes away. “What are you talking about?”

“The guy you’ve been staring at for the last minute. Are you going to go say hello?”

Midorima couldn’t help the surprised look on his face. “You can see him?”

Takao rolled his eyes. “Just because someone is short, doesn’t make them invisible.”

Midorima stared at his teammate. He’d known since the beginning that there was something more about Takao. He saw things, patterns, movements, that normal people didn’t see. He claimed it was from watching his siblings for so long that he just learned to be aware. And Midorima had accepted it for the useful tool that it was.

But this was different.

Nobody saw Kuroko. It was just another fact of life that you had to accept. Akashi was an exception because his entire life revolved around being an exception, but nobody else. Until now. With Takao able to see the invisible player, it would be a huge advantage when they played Seirin. But he also couldn’t help but think that having Kuroko and Takao on the same court would be nothing short of a disaster.

“What’s the big deal? Is he like a ghost or something?”

“He is Teiko’s phantom sixth player.”

Takao looked at him in shock. “Really, that’s real?”

“What reason would I have to lie about it?” He watched as the phantom finally boarded the bus and the team was on its way back to their school.

With the distraction gone, there was question that hung heavy on his lips. “How much of that conversation did you hear?”

“Only a little bit.” Takao paused. “Does the blue-haired kid hate you guys or something?”

Takao had heard the entire conversation, then. And Midorima was more than a little annoyed at Takao’s lie, but he did consider the question. Did Kuroko hate them? He had avoided all of them for the better part of a month, but that could mean anything. Kuroko didn’t seem to be the type of person that could hate anyone. Kise’s words rang in his head, ‘he’s different.’ Had that been what he had meant? That Kuroko was angry at them? “It’s possible.”

The rest of the journey was an uncommonly silent one.

Takao dropped him off in front of his house, not giving his usual loud goodbye, and it bothered Midorima for a reason he wouldn’t look too much into. He didn’t mention this though as he walked through his front door without looking back.

-M-

The first sign that something was wrong was when he woke up and there was no sound of his alarm. He grabbed his phone, eyes widening when he read the time. He was going to be late.

Midorima enjoyed taking his time in the mornings, so it was no surprise he found himself in a terrible mood as he ran around the house trying to get ready. He pulled on his uniform, brushed his hair and teeth, and decided to forego breakfast before getting out the door in record time.

“Cancers are at the bottom of the list today. Make sure to look both ways before crossing the street and watch out for falling objects. For improved fortune, stick to an old friend if you can find one. Your lucky item is an orange briefcase. Good fortune to you all!”

Midorima scowled as he pulled out his headphones. No wonder his alarm had never gone off. What was worse was the Midorima had neither the time nor money to buy his lucky item, so he would be forced to wait the day out. His sour mood was growing.

After his cautious arrival at school, Midorima’s phone buzzed.

_Hey, just letting u know I wont b there 2day. I miss u already Shin-chan!_

He shut off his phone without replying. It wasn’t like he cared that the other would be gone. In fact, he’d get some peace and quiet. He walked into the classroom just as the bell rang, taking note of the empty desk beside his before giving his attention to the teacher.

Lessons progressed slowly that day. His bad mood did not waver, and he was constantly on guard for something to happen. He hated days like this one for rarely did he ever manage to do something productive.

But he had made it to the end, and all that was left was practice before he could go home and put the day behind him.

Or that had been the plan until he walked out one of the school’s side doors and was immediately covered in paint for his efforts.

“Oh my god Midorima-kun! I am so sorry! I didn’t think you used this door!”

He looked at the terrified girl in front of him, barely recognizing her as a girl from his year but not his class. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, and let the building rage simmer away. He turned around sharply, heading towards the nearest bathroom. He needed the paint off. Now.

The first thing he did was peel off the soaked bandages covering his fingers. After that, he started to scrub every last drop off of his hands with vigor, this was soon followed by his arms, then face, and finally his hair. Only after did he feel less like crawling out of his skin did Midorima look into the mirror.

He grimaced. His clothes were completely stained black and it was likely that they were unsalvageable. His hair still had streaks of black that wouldn’t come out for days. His skin was bright red from where he had scrubbed it raw. His eye twitched at the few remaining specks he spotted. He wouldn’t be able to focus unless they were gone, he knew, so Midorima continued to wash, ignoring the pain in his hands and the pink tinge to the water.

It was only after no visible specks were remaining that Midorima assessed the state of his hands. His shots would be off because of this incident. He could feel the anger rising once more. His entire career could be ruined because of this. How dare that girl do this to him? He was going to…

He wasn’t going to do anything. He would not act in the same reckless manner that he criticized others for. Instead, Midorima reached for his bag to pull out the roll of bandages he kept. Much to his dismay, the roll was near empty. How could he have been so careless?

There was no time before practice in which Midorima could go get more, so a decision had to be made. Never once had he been intentionally late to a practice, but this was important. It would have to be one of his selfish requests of the day.

The convenience store was not as conveniently placed as the name might suggest, and so it took longer for Midorima to reach than he would have preferred, but he did eventually arrive with little to no distractions.

There were few customers, and Midorima was silently thankful for that. He made his way straight towards the bandages, paused to grab them, and then headed for the checkout; there was no need to waste time.

A flash of blue made Midorima pause. He turned his head and found himself looking at his former teammate. Kuroko was standing in front of the drinks, making no move to grab any of them. It was odd behavior, but that was none of Midorima’s business. He was about to continue on his way when the phantom spoke.

“Are you aware that you are covered in paint, Midorima-kun?”

“Obviously.”

Kuroko turned around to look at him properly. “It does not suit you.”

Midorima was not in the mood to put up with Kuroko. He turned from the conversation and went to pay for the bandages. He heard the footsteps following him, and then he ignored them. Though, the owner did not seem to take the hint and continued to follow him out of the store. Beyond irritated, Midorima spun around to glare at Kuroko.

“Your hands are bleeding,” Kuroko continued. 

“Obviously.” 

“It would be easier if you let me wrap them,” Kuroko reached for the package in Midorima’s hands.

Midorima moved them out of the other’s grasp. He didn’t want help. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” And speaking of, “Doesn’t Seirin have practice?”

“I could say the same thing to you.”

“My hands are bleeding.”

“Obviously,” Kuroko deadpanned. 

Midorima was frustrated, and Kuroko’s presence wasn’t helping. There was really only one way he was going to get his former teammate to leave him alone. He tossed the bandages over. “I suppose if you aren’t going to be quiet about it, I have no choice but to let you.”

Kuroko took the bandages without a word and walked to a nearby bench, obviously expecting Midorima to follow him. 

Midorima did.

Midorima expected Kuroko to do a clumsy job, far inferior to anything Midorima himself could do, injured hands or not. What he did not expect was for Kuroko to be swift and efficient, leaving work that was almost exactly like Midorima’s own. It was something that spoke of a lot of experience, and Midorima wanted to know where that experience had come from.

Kuroko finished after only a few minutes, handing back the unused bandages. “Please take better care of yourself next time, Midorima-kun.”

Midorima finished inspecting his hands. “Now you can go back to Seirin and leave me alone.”

“My coach knows I won’t be at practice today; I have promised to make up for it at a later date.”

Midorima didn't quite know how to answer that. Kuroko wouldn’t just skip without a reason. He never had at Teiko, and it didn't seem like it was a habit he was willing to break. And it sure didn’t seem like Kuroko had a valid excuse for being absent if all he was doing was standing in the middle of a convenience store. 

Kuroko was a blunt person. It wasn’t like him to be this cryptic about what he was doing.

“I am sorry for keeping you from practice, Midorima-kun. Perhaps it is time you return.”

Midorima stopped himself from wondering for the moment. Kuroko could do whatever he wanted. “I was just leaving.”

He didn't say any goodbye, too preoccupied with the thoughts running through his mind. He walked away, not noticing that he wasn’t alone until the back of his jacket was grabbed and Midorima was pulled backwards, unable to keep his balance.

“You should really pay better attention when your luck is bad,” a familiar voice called.

Midorima glared at Kuroko for making him fall. He was just about to demand what the other had been doing when Kuroko wordlessly pointed at the car barrelling down the street. 

He felt his eyes widen. How hadn’t he noticed the car? Had he kept going, he would’ve been hit for sure. Kuroko….had just saved his life.

He pulled himself off of the ground, brushing off the dirt. “Thank you,” he said quietly, embarrassed that he had been caught off guard.

“Please be more careful next time.”

Midorima wordlessly agreed. He wouldn’t be so foolish as to walk in front of a car a second time. 

Kuroko, apparently satisfied, said a final goodbye before heading off in a direction that Midorima knew did not lead to Seirin. 

Once again, Midorima was reminded of the words that never quite left his mind.

‘He’s different.’

-M-

“Shin-chan, our game is in an hour, the seniors will kill us if we are late. I don’t want to be killed by a pineapple!”

“I never asked you to come with me,” Midorima replied, completely unmoved by his companion’s plea. They would be back in plenty of time, he wasn’t planning on staying for too long. 

Ever since Kuroko had saved his life, Midorima had been unable to stop thinking about his encounter with the Seirin player no matter how hard he tried. There was something about the whole thing that bothered him immensely. Essentially, Kuroko was the same. He mostly responded the same way that three years of being teammates would lead Midorima to expect he would, but something was off. And for the life of him, Midorima had no idea what that something was.

So, he was going to see if that something would become clearer to him if he saw Kuroko play basketball. 

They arrived in the stands just in time to watch Kuroko get picked up by the only Shinkyo player who posed anything resembling a threat. Midorima internally sighed at the stupidity.

“Oh, so we’re here to watch Seirin?” Takao asked.

Midorima didn’t answer him. 

By the time the game started, even Midorima could see that Kuroko was very annoyed. This translated to the ball immediately being stolen the second it was in Shinkyo’s possession.

“That’s pretty impressive,” Takao said, and it reminded Midorima that Takao hadn’t really seen Kuroko play before. 

“He utilizes his lack of presence to move around the court unhindered.”

“How interesting.” Takao laughed. “I’ve heard about it before, but seeing it is something else entirely.”

As the game progressed past the initial few minutes of back and forth, it became very apparent to Midorima that the difference in Kuroko also applied to his basketball.

Kuroko used the same moves he always used, he incorporated his teammates the same way, and yet it was like watching a completely different person play. Somehow, Kuroko was completely disrupting the flow of the game for the opposing team. They were constantly off balance and unable to make their shots. Some part of that came from the intrusive defense of the two largest Seirin players, but it went beyond that. Passes would have little power behind them, or they would be just off enough that they would be difficult to catch. 

And Midorima still couldn’t figure out its cause.

“It’s like the teams are moving in two different times,” Takao said. “Seirin always moves first even if they don’t have the ball.”

And then it clicked. “Kuroko is predicting the moves of his opponents.” There wasn’t another explanation. And the more he watched, the more he was proved correct. Kuroko moved, his team moved, and then the ball was moved. 

Frankly, it reminded Midorima a little too much of the Emperor Eye to be comfortable. It clearly wasn't as powerful as proven by Kuroko’s inability to stop a play entirely, only disrupt it. He wasn't able to predict what was going to happen early enough to do that. But what he could do was make his team shift just enough that the opposing team would have to move as well, causing everyone to be a little off. But that left one question.

“How does Seirin see him?”

“He’s not as hard to see as you think he is, Shin-chan. It’s remembering to look for him that’s the problem. But I imagine that being on his team makes him a little harder to forget, especially when you’re actively watching out for him.”

Midorima didn't quite believe in that, but he wasn’t going to argue when he had no better explanation. 

“Isn’t it a little risky,” Takao continued, “to rely on him so much? What if he has to sit out?”

The answer to that question was found at the start of the second quarter when Kuroko was pulled out. 

“They have two playing styles,” Midorima said, watching the run and gun style that made the team moderately famous the previous year. It was much more in line with what he had been expecting. “I’ve seen enough.” He had his answers. 

Kuroko was different because he finally got off of his plateau that marked the majority of their third year. None of them had honestly expected it to ever happen, so they weren’t prepared for when it did. It wasn't a mistake he’d be making again. If Kuroko had learned something to make him a significant danger in so short a time, who knew what else he had done. 

Seirin was going to be a bigger challenge than Midorima had thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Sorry this chapter is late, but Midorima is by far the most difficult character to portray. He never says what he thinks and he's just impossible. Ugh. Let me know what you think!


	8. Nineteen Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day of the preliminary finals. His ranking is number one. Nothing will go wrong.

His Oha Asa ranking for the duration of the preliminaries was high, with most days putting him at first or second place. It usually was this way for his tournaments, so Midorima would not say it surprised him, but it did please him. The last time his ranking had been low during an important match hadn’t been pleasant. 

The high placing was obviously a sign that he was meant to win the tournament. This was further proven when the first five matches were easily won. The only truly notable thing about the previous day was seeing Seirin and meeting that arrogant new light of Kuroko’s whose name he would refuse to remember on principle.

Which all led him to today. The day of the semi finals with the finals immediately following. Currently, Shutoku was sitting in the locker room, waiting for when it was time to take the court. They all looked a little too relaxed in Midorima’s opinion. He wasn’t worried that they wouldn’t win, but it would be foolish to let their guard down so much that the other team would have an opportunity to get by. Their carelessness was when mistakes were made. With this in mind, Midorima couldn’t help the slight sneer.

It didn't take long for others to notice.

“What’s the matter, Midorima? Tired of having to sit in the presence of us mere peasants?” asked the mocking voice of Shiro, a second year who made his dislike of Midorima well-known.

Midorima ignored the other. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that he was jealous. Midorima was on first string while people had trouble remembering who Shiro was. He should be grateful that he was considered good enough to sit on the bench. It would be much more appropriate compared to his current childish behavior.

“What’s the matter? Are you too good to even talk to us?” Shiro’s friends laughed along at his lazy joke.

“Now, now, how about we all just get along? Shin-chan doesn’t mean any harm,” Takao said, throwing one arm around Midorima. 

“No, I think Midorima-sama has made his feelings pretty clear.”

“Why are you even speaking to them, Takao? Surely there are better ways to waste your breath,” Midorima said.

“All of you shut up. We have a game to play, and I will make you run to hell and back if you keep bothering everybody else,” Otsubo said. The captain was giving them all one of his signature glares that meant he was being very serious. 

Not wanting to run, but also not willing to apologize, Midorima spoke up, “Consider it one of my daily whims.”

Otsubo’s face turned an interesting shade of purple before he took a deep breath. “Fine. But two more and I will be really angry.” He turned back towards the others who did not share the same immunity that Midorima did. “Now you guys. Speak one more time and I’ll give you to Miyaji, understood?”

Their faces paled as they looked at Miyaji, who was giving them all a dark look that promised misery. They were quick to agree after that.

“Understood!”

“Now that you’re all done squabbling, let’s move on to the important things,” came the voice of their coach, Nakatani. He was the no nonsense sort of man that Midorima could appreciate. “We will be facing Ginbo High first.”

A few of the rowdier players took the brief pause as an invitation to chuckle at what they thought of as a joke. Ginbo High did not have a good reputation. They were a relatively new school with this year being the first time they had made it this far for the preliminaries. This was not helped by the fact that they usually ended up facing opponents who were hardly even considered a challenge by average schools, let alone by one of the kings. 

“Anyone who just laughed won’t be playing in the match today,” said their coach once the laughter had died down.

The outrage was immediate, and not just from those who would no longer be playing. A few were yelling about purposely crippling the team, but Midorima knew the coach would never do such a thing. Nobody who had laughed was a starter or even a regular. 

“I don’t particularly care if Ginbo was known for recruiting players with two left feet, the minute you get careless enough to overlook an opponent is the minute you stop playing.” He did not wait for their reaction before he continued speaking, “Now, as I was saying, Ginbo is best known for their balanced offense and defense, with neither one overwhelming the other. They have one player, number 3, who is a good outside shooter. On the inside is number 8 who is quite a bit taller than average and thus is good at getting rebounds. Shut them down and most of their power goes away.” 

Everyone nodded at their coach to show that they were listening. 

“You all know how to play this game, I trust that I don’t need to tell you how to accomplish this?”

They all shook their heads. That was what practice was for. 

“Good,” Nakatani said with a pleased look in his eyes. “The starters will remain the same. I expect a 50 point margin and enough energy to play in the next game. Understood?”

“Yes, coach!” the players said in unison. 

“Then, it’s time to go out there.” He said nothing more as he led them to the gym.

The crowds cheered as they walked out. Used to such a greeting, Midorima ignored them with ease as he looked around. The second and third string of Shutoku were all sitting in the stands, chanting the school song as they usually did. Surrounding them were other Shutoku students. Some were joining in with the team while others looked like they regretted sitting next to such an obnoxious group.

Midorima did not blame them.

His eyes wandered, and he spotted familiar blond hair. Kise had apparently been waiting for the two to meet eyes because as soon as they did, he started to wave frantically. Midorima, of course, pretended that he didn't see Kise and looked somewhere else.

He looked to the other court. Seirin and Seiho were both already warming up. Most of his team had figured they’d be facing Seiho, and so did a part of Midorima, but he would not fully commit to that until the game had passed. Kuroko often had a negative effect on things that were meant to be certain.

Lastly, he acknowledged Ginbo. Most of them were watching Shutoku. If they were going to waste valuable warm-up time, Midorima certainly wouldn't stop them. 

They were all told to run through the usual drills, so that was what they did. Midorima felt the ball with newly unwrapped fingers. It was a little flat, but only by a negligible amount. It would be acceptable. He brought the ball up to his chest, focus on the basket. He took a deep breath and jumped as he held the ball above his head. At the height of his path, he released it. 

Midorima landed and started heading towards the basket to retrieve his ball. He did not need to watch it soar through the air to know the outcome. And as the predicted, the ball went through the hoop without touching the rim.

The cheers were loud. He could hear a few shouts of disbelief from those who had never seen him play. It hadn't even been an impressive shot, just hardly outside the three point line. But he supposed that the hype surrounding the former Miracles was as strong as it had ever been.

He scoffed. He did not thrive on praise like Kise did, and he didn't care for the acknowledgement of complete strangers in the way that a lot of sports players did. Midorima played basketball for nobody’s approval.

He took a few more shots from outside of the three point line before they were all called back to the bench so the game could begin. 

Midorima, Takao, Otsubo, Miyaji, and Kimura all calmly stood across from the nervously determined Ginbo players. Midorima briefly focused on the two players that were supposed to be the most powerful on the team, but all he could see was average. Nevertheless, he would not be going easy on them, and when Otsubo took jump ball and tipped it to Takao who then passed to Midorima, he shot the ball right from where he was standing at half court. 

It became very obvious that Ginbo did not cope well when facing a team that had a better shooting guard than they did. They had a tight defense that was very focused on protecting the lane and could not adapt far from that. In fact, only five minutes had gone by and Shutoku was leading 21-2. 

“Shutoku member change,” yelled one of the refs right after Midorima scored again. He was a bit surprised at the announcement. There wasn't a need for a member change yet.

“Number 6.”

It took a moment for Midorima to process what he had heard. They were pulling him out of the game after only five minutes? He kept his face blank as he switched out with his replacement and took a seat on the bench next to the coach, waiting for an explanation.

“We don’t need you using all of your energy in this game when we have another one immediately following.”

Midorima could see the logic in the thought, but it was still insulting that Nakatani thought he’d used too much energy in only five minutes. Midorima knew his limits, and he was nowhere near reaching them.

His silence prompted the other to speak again. “Look behind me, Midorima, and then you can silently disagree with me if you want. 

Slightly curious, Midorima looked behind him where the other game was in full swing. He could barely make out the scoreboard reading 0-0. Going five minutes with no score might not seem like much, but Midorima was aware that five minutes is a long time in basketball for nothing to happen. It was not unexpected for Seiho to stop their opponent’s from scoring, but for Seirin to do the same was surprising.

“That score means that both teams are very bad at the game, or they’re both very good. And we know which one of those is true No matter who we face next round, I think it would be best that you were at full strength.”

And Midorima saw no reason to argue with that. It was clear that the next match would be more challenging than the current one was proving to be, and the coach was only looking ahead. “Understandable.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

By the time halftime came around, Shutoku was winning 62-15. The Ginbo players were all beginning to get that familiar downtrodden look, and Midorima found it hard to sympathize. They had taken part in the tournament with the knowledge that they were most likely going to lose. He couldn't fathom why they were so upset about an expected loss. 

Across the gym, the score was 26-19 in Seirin’s favor. Midorima hadn’t been watching the game, focusing on his own match instead, but it was hard to ignore the cheers on the other side when something had happened, so he had caught a few glimpses. It looked like Seirin had been using their new strategy, but switched somewhere in the second quarter when Kuroko was pulled out of the game.

Apparently, Midorima hadn't been the only one paying some attention because Otsubo said, “We might have paid too much attention to Seiho,” as soon as they reached the locker room. It was a reasonable concern. Shutoku had watched many more of Seiho’s tapes than they had of Seirin’s. They had figured it was more than likely they’d face the team they faced almost every year in the finals. 

“Seirin’s only winning by 7,” Takao said as he took a drink of water. It seemed like he’d been paying attention too despite also playing in a game of his own the entire time.

“The chances of Seirin beating one of the three kings is small,” agreed Miyaji.

“I’m not saying that Seirin will win, but I am saying that there’s a chance. And if they do win, then we don’t know very much about how they play this year.”

“Then we deal with that when we get there. If you’ve not forgotten, we are in the middle of a different game,” said Nakatani.

“But we’re winning by fifty.”

“Then make it one-hundred.”

The coach refused to let any of them talk about anything other than Ginbo for the rest of break. It didn't matter that there was almost no chance of losing at that point. And despite his unwillingness to discuss the future, he did make the decision to pull out all of their starters for the rest of the game, proving that he was starting to become just as wary as the rest of them.  
The game started up again with Midorima still watching from the sidelines, but he had to deal with Takao’s constant input this time. This wasn’t entirely unwelcome as the game was not exactly what one would call interesting.

“Who do you think is going to win, Shin-chan?” Takao asked.

It was obvious that he was not referring to their match. “How am I supposed to know?”

“I’m not asking what you know; I’m asking what you think.” Takao gave him a nudge to let him know that he was only teasing, but Midorima knew that he actually wanted an answer.

He thought about it. His first instinct was to say Seiho. Objectively, they were the better team in all areas. This had been proven the year before when Seirin had been crushed by Seiho. There was also the fact that Seirin’s main rebounder was currently absent, giving Seiho an even greater advantage.

But the current game showed that Seirin had changed since last year. Midorima still thought they were a weak team, but they now had Kuroko. And if Kuroko had grown as much as Midorima believed he had, as much as Midorima had seen, then there was really no telling who would win the match.

“Seiho,” he said just to give an answer so Takao would leave him alone.

“I think it’s going be Seirin,” Takao said with enough conviction that it gave Midorima pause. He didn't understand why Takao suddenly seemed to care so much.

“I didn't ask for your opinion,” he said. 

Takao just laughed at him.

In the end, dealing with the non-starters gave Ginbo a larger chance than what they had, but it still wasn't much of one. And although it was slower than it had been before, the gap in points continued to grow. The third quarter ended with a lead of 65, and the final buzzer sounded off with a final score of 120-39.

Both teams lined up on the court to say their mandatory thank you’s. It was almost certainly the part of the game that Midorima hated most. He didn't much care to look at the crying faces of his opponents, and he was sure that the other team didn't want to be there either. The thank-you’s on both sides always ended up feeling unnecessary. But he still did it without complaint.

Just as they finished, the buzzer on the other court went off. Midorima’s head snapped over to the score.

85-77. Seirin had won.

Midorima could almost hear the surprise from Shutoku in that moment. It was clear that many of them had not been expecting that, even after knowing the score at halftime.

“In the locker room,” said Nakatani as the players walked back to the bench. Everybody gathered up their things quickly before listening to their coach with no complaint. “This changes nothing,” he said as soon as everybody was inside. “We may have paid more attention to Seiho, but we did not neglect Seirin. They still use the run and gun style that we saw on their tapes, and we still know how to shut it down. Their number 11 might change things a little, but he is only one person. If we shut him down, the game is as good as ours; it’s the same as Ginbo. Midorima.”

Midorima raised an eyebrow.

“You said that boy remains unseen, yes? That’s how he plays basketball?”

“I did.” 

“Then how do we get by him? You were his teammate, surely you know his weakness?”

Midorima knew very well what he should say; he should tell them that the answer to their problem was sitting next to him, but something had been stopping him from bringing it up. He had told them what he knew about Kuroko’s abilities including his newfound power of prediction, but this felt different, and he had recognized that ever since the first time Takao saw Kuroko. Perhaps, he decided, it was because that this was about more than Kuroko’s basketball. Invisibility was such a large part of his identity that without it, there wouldn’t be much left. And something told Midorima that the consequences would be dire.

“Takao can see him.” He said it anyway because he played for Shutoku now, and he couldn’t keep things from them that could lead to their victory. 

“Interesting.” Nakatani said as he rubbed at his chin. He looked over to Takao consideringly. “Then I suppose that we have no choice but to have you guard the boy.”

“I’ll do my best,” Takao said, voice almost sounding serious for once.

“I don’t want him moving an inch without you being there to stop him.” And no more was said on the topic.

Midorima watched as everyone seemed to be more confident because of his four small words and instantly decided he had made the right choice. They’d play better because of this. They would be more on guard than they would have been had he not told them.

No matter what it took, he would not lose to Kuroko.

(And a very small part of him hoped he wouldn’t regret his decision)

-M-

He needed to warm up. He knew how important it was, and yet Midorima found himself standing off to the side with a ball in his hands and no intention of shooting it.

Instead, he watched as the arrogant Seirin player dunked the ball for the fourth time in a row and then almost immediately got yelled at by his coach for doing so. What an inefficient method of warming up.

His eyes continued to move around the court. They worked well together, he would admit. Nobody was getting in any other person’s way, and any stray balls were efficiently put back into rotation. That wasn’t to say that he thought they were very good. Quite a few of them missed more shots than they made. 

He saw Kuroko on the bench; a fact that would usually annoy him and still somewhat did, but at least he knew there was a reason. Kuroko’s stamina was pathetic. It had something to do with an illness he had as a child, but the point was that he had hardly any stamina, and it would be idiotic to waste too much of it for warm ups.

He wasn't looking at Midorima; he was busy watching the stupid player’s attempts to impress. There was a calm expression on his face.

Would it still be there if he knew what was about to happen?

Suddenly, blue eyes met green. Kuroko only stared for a moment before they shifted to something above Midorima’s head. 

Midorima looked, too, and he was just in time to stop a ball from hitting him. Irritated, he looked for the culprit, unsurprised to find Shiro watching him from the other side of the basket.

“Sorry about that. Though it probably wouldn’t have happened if you could keep your eyes off of Seirin for two seconds,” Shiro said as he made his way over.

Midorima shook his head in anger. People like Shiro weren’t worth his time. Instead, Midorima decided to shoot the ball that was still in his hands. He brought it above his head, got ready to jump, and dropped it as something hit him in the side. He looked down to see a basketball.

“It slipped.”

And before the rage could cause Midorima to completely lose his calm, Takao came over.

“Ah, Shiro, better be careful, you could hurt somebody if you keep being so clumsy.” Takao laughed even as Shiro’s face started to turn red. “Don’t be so embarrassed, I’m sure you’ll grow out of it in a few years. Late bloomers aren’t so rare, after all.”

This, obviously, only made Shiro even angrier. “Why the hell are you sticking up for him? He likes you as much as he likes the rest of us.”

“At least Takao doesn’t waste my time when I’m trying to warm up,” Midorima said before he walked away. He had no more time to waste on such an argument. There was a frustrated yell from behind him, but Midorima decided that it was no longer any of his concern. 

It was only another few minutes before the buzzer rang. The court was soon emptied as the tension started to rise. It was time. This was the game to decide everything.

“Alright, this is what we’ve waited for,” Otsubo said as they gathered for the pre-game huddle. “If everyone goes all out and plays wholeheartedly, then I have no doubt that we will win.”

“And if we don’t, then I will make sure that nobody ever finds your bodies,” Miyaji added cheerfully.

It was not clear if he was being serious or not.

“Don’t worry about it, Shin-chan, we won’t lose,” Takao said as soon as the huddle was dismissed.

“I never said I was worried.”

And with those words, the starters lined up on the court.

He found himself face to face with the arrogant Seirin player. He ignored this as he addressed Kuroko, who was opposite of Takao. “You may think that your new playing style will be enough to save a weak school like Seirin from defeat, but you will not be the victor of this game.” He would give Kuroko a chance to back out and admit defeat before the damage couldn’t be reversed.

“We will see, Midorima-kun,” Kuroko said.

“Are you still on about that fate crap?”

Midorima turned to the player whose name he would not remember. “I have nothing to say to a player who plays as disgracefully as you do.” Midorima might have sworn to not pay any attention to the player, but he had certainly noticed the four fouls the other had acquired in the previous game.

He didn't get mad like Midorima had expected. Rather, Midorima’s words seemed to make him even more fired up. “My fouls were pretty stupid, and I won’t do it again. Instead, we’re going to defeat you!” he shouted. 

Takao laughed. “You sure have a funny sense of humor.”

The moment was ruined, but it was just as well since the signal for the players to take their positions on the court was given. Kuroko gave them both a polite nod before dragging the arrogant one behind him.

Midorima wasn’t nervous. He had worked endlessly for a victory. Hours and hours of practice made for a perfect shot, one that would never miss. His lucky item was sitting on the bench which he had got even though his Oha Asa ranking was first. There was no reason to be nervous. All he felt in that moment was anticipation.

He didn't have to wait very long before the ball was thrown into the air. It rose higher and higher with the two players jumping after it. One of them reached it first, quickly passing it to his team.

It was Seirin’s ball.

It was obvious that they were going to try and take the quarter early. The ball was brought down the court, but Shutoku was not called a king for nothing, and they were all quick to stop Seirin’s advance. The ball was passed around until Otsubo blocked Seirin’s shooting guard’s attempt at a three. 

Takao took control of the ball, but he had no clear path to pass to Midorima. Seirin, it seemed, was going to try their absolute hardest to stop the ball from landing in Midorima’s hands.

But they could only delay the inevitable. And sure enough, only two minutes into the quarter, the ridiculous game of keep away ended when one of Seirin’s players took a step too far to the left, leaving a clear opening for Midorima.

No time was wasted as the ball was passed to him. Midorima took his shot. The score was 3-0 in Shutoku's favor.

The quarter would be his.

Maybe he had overestimated Kuroko. One player couldn't make that much of a difference for a mediocre team. 

As soon as those words crossed his mind, Kuroko took the ball. He spun, gaining momentum, before he launched the ball across the court and into the waiting hands of the arrogant player. 

3-2.

Midorima’s eyes widened in shock. He knew that move. Had seen it over and over again in the Teiko gym for the better part of two years, but he never thought he’d ever see it in an actual game. He’d never thought it would be finished and then used to shut him down. 

Furthermore, he never thought it could be used with someone other than Aomine. That was, after all, who the pass had been designed for. Once the light and shadow duo had distanced, it seemed like the pass would retire with them. To see the Seirin player catch it made him uneasy. 

Around him, he could hear the shouts of disbelief about what had just happened. The praises of such an amazing move. The cries of pain over catching such a fast ball. He shook his head. None of it mattered; even if Kuroko retalited every time Midorima took a shot, his shots would always be worth more points. He got himself ready as Takao brought the ball back.

There were very few moments in the following minutes where Midorima was left open to make a shot, but every time he was, he made sure to make it count. Slowly, Shutoku started to take a lead.

But Shutoku was getting sloppier the more that they played. Jumps would fall short of getting a rebound or shots would bounce off of the rim. It was annoying. Were they not taking the game seriously enough or were they all that tired from their previous game? 

Then, Midorima received a pass that forced him to step out of his shooting stance if he had any chance of catching it. He took a moment to adjust before he shot the ball. He looked over to Takao. That had never happened before. His passes were reliable if nothing else. Maybe the other players could be counted on messing up, but not Takao. What had happened?

Takao wasn't looking at him; he was looking at Kuroko with a particularly irritated glare, and then it all made sense: Kuroko was beginning to throw them out of rhythm. 

He huffed. He hadn't noticed what was right in front of him, and he had been watching for it.

“Takao,” he said with a bit more aggression than he really intended, “you’re not watching him closely enough.”

It was another 30 seconds before the two were close enough to speak again. “I see him perfectly fine. He just keeps slipping away.” Takao’s usual cheer was absent. 

“Then get closer and stop making excuses.”

And that seemed to work for the most part. Giving Kuroko no room to do much except for breathe certainly limited what movements he could make. Thus, he had a harder time trying to signal his team. But, the small point gap that they had managed to create continued to grow smaller until it was nonexistent.

The first quarter ended 22-22.

Midorima was growing frustrated, so he took a deep breath. There was no time to let his emotions affect his performance.

The second quarter began in short order. The strategy was simple: stop Kuroko and get the ball to Midorima. They needed points and they needed them quickly, and with Takao continuing to press Kuroko, Midorima was in possession of the ball in little time. He wasted no time in taking a shot, but something unexpected happened.

The ball was knocked out of his hands by none other than the arrogant player. 

Everything froze as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. His shot had been blocked when he specifically designed them to be unblockable. Just how high did this player jump? Or was this another one of Kuroko’s tricks? Making Midorima think that he had jumped as he normally did, but in reality, something was different than how he saw it. He couldn’t trust his perception of events anymore.

“Don’t gloat, Kagami-kun.”

Midorima blinked and suddenly Kuroko was there and the arrogant player was clutching his shin. He had missed something. 

“We’ve been working on Kagami-kun’s jumps, which were already high to begin with. It is one of his many oddities.” They all ignored the complaints that came from this statement. “Don’t be discouraged Midorima-kun.” Blue eyes were staring imploringly at him.

Midorima scoffed and looked away. “As if I’d let myself be discouraged by something as insignificant as that.” He turned, getting back into the game that had been going on without them. But those words were much easier to say than they were to believe. Kuroko was most likely telling the truth as he had an aversion towards lying, but was there more to the story? Was Kuroko messing up his shots in combination with the unnatural jumping abilities, or did he have nothing to do with it? 

The player whose name he still would not remember continued to block his shots. He wasn’t always successful; sometimes he jumped too early or too late. It wasn't much, but it had to be enough for Midorima to forget his doubts for the moment. He was not going to lose. No opponent was infallible. 

Besides, one of them would have to stop jumping sooner or later, and Midorima knew that it wouldn’t be him.

Halfway through the quarter, the words, “Seirin, member change,” were called. Kuroko was being pulled out. He may be gone for now, but Midorima knew that he'd be back.

Without their phantom, Seirin reverted to the run and gun style that was much easier to handle, and it was exactly what they had prepared for. 

Rebounds were caught, shots were made, and Shutoku quickly found the rhythm they had lost only minutes prior.

42-29. Halftime.

Midorima stayed silent. This wasn't going the way he had planned at all. Aquarius had the worst luck. He should be ahead by 40 points at the very least. The lead he had now shouldn't have been acquired only because Kuroko wasn’t in the game.

It didn't sound like his opinion was shared. They were celebrating. “The point gap’s just too big, even if that kid comes back in. And that’s assuming we don’t just make that gap larger.”

“Don’t look so happy; you all looked like an embarrassment out there,” came the stoic voice of Nakatani as he walked into the locker room and shut the door behind him. “More missed shots and rebounds than I have ever seen.” 

“It was that number eleven. It wasn’t our fault,” an outspoken second year defended.

“The kid isn’t god. He isn’t an unstoppable presence that you have no choice but to bow under. In fact, he didn't shoot one ball and has the worst stamina that I’ve ever seen in a starting player. Your performance was pathetic on its own merit; don’t hide behind a child.” His feelings made known, Nakatani proceeded to tell a much more somber group their game plan with variations depending on Kuroko being put back into the match, all the while criticizing Takao for letting Kuroko slip by.

“I hope they do put him back in,” said Otsubo suddenly.

Everybody stared. Even Midorima, who felt the same, couldn’t help but give the captain a look. Midorima shared a history with Kuroko. It made sense that he wanted to play against his former teammate, to show him that he would win. 

“We can’t very well say that we beat Seirin fairly if they don’t use their best player.” And then Midorima felt stupid for being surprised at all. That was exactly like the captain to say.

“Well said. I’d rather forfeit the match than play a team when it wasn’t at their best,” their coach agreed. 

And then it was time for the third quarter. 

They took their places, waiting for Seirin to do the same. But when they did, there was only four of them. 

No. There only seemed to be four of them. Midorima blinked hard and sure enough, Kuroko stood with the rest of his team. He very nearly growled. He knew. He knew that Kuroko would back, and he still missed him. He couldn't let it keep happening. He needed to be better than that.

But his resolve wasn't enough. The whistle blew and the ball was almost immediately in Seirin’s possession. It hit the court in an unnatural way and bounced into the waiting hands of the shooting guard. And he knew what happened, but his eyes hadn't seen it. 

They brought the ball back. Midorima knew he wouldn't get it. There wasn't an opening. So, the ball went to Miyaji instead. A crossover was enough to get by his mark, but when he came back out on the other side, the ball was gone. Midorima hadn't seen that one either.

Seirin’s point guard threw the ball almost blindly behind him. It was careless, and the other player would surely be yelled at for it. But just as the ball was going to go out of bounds, Kuroko appeared, throwing it across the court where it was caught and put through the hoop.

They brought the ball back. It was stolen.

They moved. Stolen.

Breathed. Stolen

Stolen. 

Stolen.

Stolen.

It seemed Kuroko was trying to make up for his absence in addition to playing the third quarter. Whatever lead Shutoku had quickly vanished, and they were soon left trying to catch up. Midorima knew that if he couldn’t do something in the next minute, there’d be no chance of winning. He needed to find his focus and a plan.

A deep breath. Focus.

The ball was in possession of the second best player on Seirin. He had no finesse, but Seirin set up enough screens that he could get through anyways. A dunk, but Midorima didn't watch to see whether or not it went in. 

He watched for the strain in the legs. He knew what he was looking for, so it was easy to find. Slight swelling, tightness, and involuntary shaking. He was close to his limit. He wouldn't last until the end of the quarter, let alone the end of the game. They would use his jumps sparingly. They’d have to if they didn't want to pull him out. 

The plan came to him. Midorima just had to make him reach that limit. Those jumps were flashy and eye-catching. It served the double purpose of stopping his shots, but it also drew attention away from Kuroko. If what made that player special were gone, the light would be dull enough to hinder the shadow. 

“I don’t care how you do it, get the ball to me,” he said as he passed by Takao. He didn't wait for confirmation; Takao would do it.

Perhaps it renewed Takao’s determination, or maybe there was another explanation. He didn't care how, but the ball was soon in his hands.

Everything was riding on what Midorima was going to do, and he was going to make it work. He jumped, just as he had every other time. The Seirin player was close behind. But Midorima did not shoot; he passed the ball to Otsubo. He was the first to land and took that fraction of the second to step around the Seirin player. With no one to guard him, the ball was back in his hands almost immediately. 

It soared through the net. The plan had worked. He couldn't help himself as he sought out Kuroko. The widened eyes were satisfying.

They didn't think he would do the same thing twice, so that was exactly what he did. And once again, it worked.

They tried to be careful after that. They couldn’t afford to waste jumps, but they couldn’t let Midorima score. 

Midorima knew his fakes were perfect, and the many wasted jumps proved it. He brought them back from defeat.

51-52. Seirin was in the lead.

It was time for the final quarter. Ten more minutes would decide the fate of the game. 

Midorima raised an eyebrow as the Serin player walked onto the court. He could barely walk straight, what was their coach thinking?

Despite what many people seemed to think, he didn't find enjoyment in watching opponents injure themselves. He had thought the Seirin coach would have enough sense to see what was going on. Apparently not. 

It was dangerous to let him continue, but if they were going let him play, then they would have to deal with the consequences.

And the consequences showed themselves when Midorima had the ball only thirty seconds into the quarter, preparing to shoot.

“I won't let you,” shouted the Seirin player as they both jumped.

The ball was blocked, but it had come at a price. Midorima had landed on his feet, but the loud one collapsed the moment his feet hit the ground. His legs couldn’t support him.

Midorima took a moment to assess the other’s condition. He wasn't writhing in pain, so there was quite a small chance of something being torn. No, this was more likely to be overuse and exhaustion. Seirin was fortunate. Things tended to be much worse when people were reckless.

Despite his luck with the minimal injury, the Seirin player seemed adamant to continue. His shouts made it very clear that he thought he could keep playing, and he tried to stand on his own more than once. Even the Seirin coach wasn’t stupid enough to believe him and eventually called for help in holding him down while she looked at the extent of the damage. Soon, he was forcefully escorted off of the court, a substitution was made, and the game continued.

With the light gone, the shadow would suffer. It was an irrefutable fact, and he had seen it happen many times during middle school when Aomine would foul himself out of games. Kuroko wouldn’t be useless, but he wouldn’t be at full power, either. Victory was within sights.

But Midorima was wrong. He shouldn't have been, but he was.

The absence of his light did not stop Kuroko. No, all it did was make him angry. Midorima was familiar with Kuroko’s particular brand of anger, and he thought it was safe to say that it wasn’t aimed towards Shutoku and neither was it at him specifically. In truth, Kuroko’s anger didn't seem to be directed at anything at all. But that was a ridiculous thought.

Whatever its true cause, Kuroko used that anger. Where anger made most people more brash, it had always given Kuroko focus, and it was when he was angry that his greatest accomplishments occurred. 

Kuroko’s energy, which had been steadily draining away, was renewed.His passes became impossible to intercept, going so fast that it didn't matter whether or not they could see them. Even Kuroko’s teammates had problems keeping up. The amount of times that Shutoku had possession were minimal, and the amount of times they kept the ball for longer than a few seconds were even fewer. No matter how good of a team they may be, he knew that the rest of Shutoku would not be able to keep up any longer.

So, it came down to what he knew it was always going to come down to for the next three years: a match between Miracles. 

Kuroko’s new found energy might have come as a surprise, but it didn't mean Midorima was unable to cope. He didn't have to stop Kuroko as long as he could stop the rest of Seirin. He stepped to the left, giving his mark an intentional opening. There. His mark was reaching to the right, so Midorima’s hand shot out. He only took a second to examine the ball in his before shooting it.

Though, Kuroko was never one to fall for the same trick twice. Midorima’s mark reached to the left, but the ball hit the ground in front of them before bouncing in another direction. The shock of the Seirin player told Midorima that he hadn't been expecting it either. He could no longer gauge the team’s reactions with any accuracy. Kuroko had shut down that method completely.

Back and forth they went. The time had to be near its end, and he had no idea as to the score of the game. There wasn't time to look at the board, but didn't matter whether he was behind 100 points or ahead by the same, Midorima would not lose. Not today, and not to Kuroko. It was Shutoku’s ball after one of Kuroko’s passes was just a little too fast to be caught, and it went soaring out of bounds. Takao managed to give him the pass, and the ball was in his grip. Nobody could stop him now.

And nobody did; he scored another perfect shot. 

The ball had barely hit the ground before the final buzzer sounded. He hadn't realized that it was so close to the end. He turned his head.

72-83.

For the first time in a very long time, Midorima had lost a game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! It's definitely a bit later than expected, so as an apology, this chapter is the longest one yet. Don't worry, I don't plan on abandoning this story.  
> Side note: reviews. I love them, but I've only recently realized that I can reply to them. So my question is do authors usually respond to their reviews or not? I wouldn't mind doing it at all, I was just wondering if people usually do.   
> Let me know what you think!


	9. Nineteen Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midorima has to deal with his emotions, and Takao becomes the best person in the story.

The first time he lost and was capable of understanding what that meant, he was six years old. It had been a children’s game, but that hardly mattered. The point was that Midorima had lost, and he learned that he absolutely hated it. He loathed feeling disappointed and inadequate, like he was unable to live up to expectations.

He made it his goal to never have to feel that way again. He studied beyond the point of necessity so his test scores would always be the highest. He would never participate in games and sports until he knew their rules inside and out, until he was good enough at them to win. 

In his last year before entering middle school, Midorima discovered basketball. Like with everything else he came across, he studied the sport. How it worked, who played it. And when he finished that, Midorima tried it out for himself.

It didn't take him long to realize that he was good. He could calculate the force he needed to put behind each shot so it would fall through the hoop. His taller than average height meant that he would have an easier time of getting rebounds. Midorima found that he liked basketball. He liked winning games with his shots. 

Naturally, he decided that this would be his sport. He might play other sports, but he would be a basketball player.

Of course, that meant he couldn't lose. What sort of basketball player lost? He would just practice until it impossible for him to lose.

So, he did.

Yet he lost anyways, and that familiar self-loathing crept up just like it had when he was six.

He had done everything right. He practiced; he never slacked off. He always had his lucky item, but none of it was enough. He wasn't enough. 

Midorima watched with a blank gaze as his team left the locker room. Nakatani had probably said some words, followed by Otsubo’s own attempt. They would try to be encouraging, saying that it had been a good game. 

Midorima hadn't heard a word. 

Eventually, they left. None of them approached him. Maybe they already tried to get his attention. Maybe they hadn't and were leaving anyways because he was useless to them now.

It had been a long time since he had lost, but it had been even longer since he wasn't sure of what to do next. Logically, he knew he should quit. His purpose at Shutoku was to defeat the Miracles, and he just proved that he was incapable of that. It’s what any self respecting player would do.

But he didn't want to. Basketball was his sport; he was a basketball player. To give up so easily on it after years of effort would be a waste, but it was what he was supposed to do.

The door opened, and Midorima didn't look to see who it was. Somebody had probably just forgotten something. 

“You do know that the team has already left, and we were supposed to be with them, right?” Takao asked, looking as though he hadn't just lost.

“Then why aren’t you with them?” he questioned harshly. He didn't need Takao to wait for him; he didn't ask him to stay. 

“Wait, are you crying?” He sounded incredulous. 

“That would be stupid.” He wasn't crying. Takao was seeing things as usual.

“You’re telling me,” Takao said as he sat on the bench opposite of him. 

“Go away. You’re being even more irritating than usual.” His words were cold and biting, pushing Takao to do as he said.

“Nah, I’ll wait for you to stop pouting so you can buy me dinner,” Takao said calmly.

Pouting? That’s what Takao thought he was doing? How dare he just throw away the loss like it was nothing. Calling his reactions insignificant. Takao didn't understand, and Midorima was foolish for thinking he ever did. “Don't be so presumptuous. Just because you don't care-,”

“You’re so selfish sometimes.” Takao interrupted.

Midorima glowered at him, “I-”

He was interrupted again. “No, just shut up for a minute, Shin-chan. You are going to be quiet while I yell at you because I put up with a lot from you, but not this.” Despite his words, Takao was not yelling. He was very clearly angry, but his voice was only slightly raised. “You, the most uncaring guy I know, do not get to tell me that I don't care. Of course I care that we lost. I care that Kuroko Tetsuya was able to slip by me with ease. That he won even though it didn't look like he was trying all that hard. Should I be mad at him? Perhaps I should scream to the heavens that they’ve abandoned me. Or maybe I need to pout in the locker room convinced that I’m the reason we lost to the point where I don't even notice that my team isn’t mad at me.

“I get it. It sucks, but this isn't helping anything. It’s not going to make the outcome of the game any different. We’re still in the Winter Cup, and we’ll have a chance to beat Seirin. And if we can’t do it then, there’s still two more years to show them that we can. This isn't the end of your career, so stop acting like it is.”

Midorima didn't know what to think about that. His anger was fading, confusion taking its place. Should he be angry? Upset? Annoyed? Were his opinions supposed to be changed now? Maybe all of those things were true, but deciphering what he felt in these types of situations had always been hard for him, and he had no idea where to even begin.

“But maybe I’m being too much of a hypocrite,” Takao continued when Midorima didn't reply, seeming to take the chance to get everything he’d ever thought off of his chest. “It’s probably your first loss in a long time, and those are hard.” He paused for just a second. “I never told you this, but I was considered something of a prodigy in middle school. Got used to winning because it was all we ever did. And then in third year, we played a team that wasn't in our usual conference. They smoked us, and I mean it wasn't even close; a sixty-seven point difference.”

“Us,” Midorima said without hesitation. 

Takao grinned. “Yep. you guys sure took us down a few pegs. We hadn't lost in months, then suddenly we had been completely crushed by a team who were purposefully hindering themselves for entertainment. I pouted, moped, cried, and all of those other things. And when I came to Shutoku, I hated you. Especially when you didn't even recognize me or my school when I mentioned it. But I realized you weren’t an awful person like I had built you up to be. You did some not very nice things to my team, but you weren’t inherently terrible. So, I stopped trying paint you as a villain. I accepted that I lost because you were better. My hatred wasn't doing me any good, and it was probably making me worse at basketball with all my attention focused on you. Not to mention how exhausting it got. Don't do that to yourself, Shin-chan. Don't let it take you months to realize what I did, or I won’t hesitate to tell the entire school that you’re in your angsty teenager phase.” He laughed at his own joke, killing whatever serious mood he had managed to create.

Midorima looked at him, and he wondered why Takao had even wanted to get to know him. He was right when he said that Midorima didn't recognize him or his school, and he was well aware of what an insult that was. Midorima wouldn't have bothered if someone had done it to him. But Takao had bothered, and maybe Midorima was the one who didn't understand. “Don’t be so dramatic.” _I’m sorry._

“I wasn’t the one who was crying in the bathroom.” _Are you good?_

“I don't cry.” _I’ll be fine._

“Whatever you say, Shin-chan. Now that this sulk fest is over, let’s go get food. I’m starving.”

They’d found their equilibrium again. “I’m not the one who just performed a five minute speech.”

“Just be glad that I didn't include the powerpoint I prepared. That would’ve taken hours.”

The pair gathered their things, and left the locker room. Midorima left his lucky item behind. Takao’s rant didn't change the fact that Oha Asa was wrong and had lost his trust as a result.

They had only just made it to the entrance before Midorima’s phone started to ring. It was Momoi, and Midorima knew exactly what she wanted.

Takao leaned in to read the ID before Midorima could stop him. “Looks important, better take it,” he said before running off to who knows where.

“Momoi,” Midorima greeted after he accepted the call.

“Midorin! How was your match?”

Under any other circumstances, Midorima wouldn’t have done what he did, but he was emotionally drained, and this conversation was only rubbing salt in the wounds that hadn't even begun to heal. So, he hung up on her.

Of course, the phone started ringing almost immediately. He declined it. Of course, Momoi would not let it go no matter how much he would prefer it.

He reluctantly answered the third time. “Momoi.”

“So, you lost?” asked a deep voice that most certainly wasn't Momoi’s.

Aomine was dense in everything except for basketball. It wasn't surprising that he picked up on that. “Aomine,” he said.

“Was it his new light?” He didn't sound interested in whether or not that was the case despite being the one who asked the question.

Midorima thought about it. That player wasn't bad at basketball, but he wasn't the reason for the loss. “No, it was Kuroko. He’s different,” he said. Once more Kise’s words came back into play, but unlike Kise, Midorima understood in what way. Kuroko had gotten so much stronger in the last months. He wasn't holding back as Kise had thought; that would imply a lack of respect or drive to win. Instead, Kuroko was only using what was necessary to win. He wasn't the type to use every move in his repertoire unless he had to. He challenged players to challenge him, and he would give back everything he got. There was no holding back, only a show of restraint. And to most that might seem like the same thing, but it wasn't.

“It doesn’t matter. Kuroko is my enemy now, and the only one who can beat me is me,” he said before there was rustling on the other line.

“Midorin, sorry about him. He hasn’t learned that stealing my phone is rude.”

“It’s fine.”

“Sorry for calling when you’re so depressed,” she said.

He wondered why she didn't just call Kuroko, then. It was no secret that she would rather be talking to him. “I’m not depressed.”

“It’s okay to be sad, you know. Losing is no fun.”

“I have to go,” he said quickly, not wanting to start another conversation about feelings. 

“Oh, alright. Call again sometime, I miss talking to you!” 

“Goodbye, Momoi.” He hung up the phone for the final time.

“Glad you’re done. I was getting some weird stares for hanging out here alone,” Takao said, obviously having been close enough to know when the conversation was over.

He couldn’t even find it in him to be properly annoyed. 

“Now, time for food!”

Midorima would rather go home. Despite Takao’s best efforts, he wasn't ‘over’ his loss just because of a few words. The thought of it still stung. He didn't need dinner, what he needed was time to think things through. However, starving himself was not productive, so the two were off to find food.

They weren't very far from the arena before the sky rapidly began to darken. It wasn't supposed to rain that day, so neither of them had brought an umbrella. That meant their options were limited to what was very close by, of which there was only one choice that they could agree on. 

“Got room for two more?” Takao asked as soon as his foot stepped over the threshold. Midorima was about to yell at him for it, but his words died in his throat as soon as he entered the restaurant. 

Since the universe decided that it suddenly hated Midorima, of course it would make sense that Seirin and Kise would be in the same restaurant. Not willing to deal with it, he made a decision.  
Perhaps if he wasn't in such a bad mood, or if he gave it any more thought than the amount of time it took to turn around, he would’ve realized it wouldn't be a good idea to exit the building when he could hear the rain pounding on the roof. However, he was and he did.

It was unfortunate that the building had no awning. Within seconds, Midorima was completely soaked from head to toe. He thought briefly about continuing regardless of the weather, but he quickly dismissed the idea when he considered the high chance of pneumonia.

With no other choice, he walked backed inside, pretending that he hadn't just done that. Everybody was staring at him. He pulled off his glasses to wipe the water off. Nobody had moved by the time he put them back on.

“Midorima-kun, Takao-kun, please have a seat,” Kuroko said as he gestured to the empty chairs in front of them.

Midorima thought about taking his chances with the rain again, but slowly made his way towards the table. Takao, at least, would draw most of the two’s attention with his obnoxious personality.

“Actually, I’m going to sit over there,” Takao said, pointing at a table full of Seirin players. The table in question was full, but that didn't seem to deter him. “You guys look like a good reunion is in order, and I wouldn't want to get in the way of that.”

Midorima glared, hoping that Takao would drop dead. All he received for his effort was a thumbs up. Now alone, he took the seat across from Kuroko. 

“Hello, Midorima-kun. Please feel free to help yourself. Kise-kun ordered too much.” There was a lot of food.

He nodded in return, not making a move to eat anything.

Nobody spoke. 

“It’s so funny,” Takao’s voice rang out. “We lost our team because Shin-chan wouldn't stop crying.”

Seirin laughed.

Midorima twitched.

“So,” Kise said, being the first to break the silence like they all knew he would. “That was a really good game. Midorimacchi, your full court shots were amazing!”

“Of course they were.”

Kise’s laugh was strained. “Always so confident.”

Midorima didn't respond.

“Kurokocchi and I just got here when you arrived. He was just telling me where Kagamicchi was.” Kise was desperately trying to get them talking.

Midorima didn't particularly care where that player was. For all he cared, he could be drowning in a river somewhere.

“Kagami-kun went with our coach to see a doctor about his injuries.” His words weren’t accusing like Midorima had thought they might be; he was simply stating a fact. “We were being too loud, so they kicked us out of the waiting room.”

Loud and Kuroko did not go together, but hearing the cheering going on at Takao’s table, Midorima could understand. 

“Is he going to be okay?” Kise asked.

Kuroko shrugged. “Most likely.” 

“He better be okay!” Kise exclaimed. “I want my rematch at Interhigh.”

Midorima stood up. The rain had finally lightened up enough for him to go home. “Takao, we’re leaving.”

“Midorimacchi, I’m sorry, that was insensitive,” Kise apologized, 

“I don't put enough importance in your words to feel offended.” Midorima walked over to Takao’s table and throwing down a few bills he took from his wallet. “That’s for whatever he’s helped himself to. Let’s go, Takao.”

Takao looked at the money for a moment before shoving his cheeks full of food and standing up. He gave the table a wave while swallowing. “Thanks, guys. We better get moving before Shin-chan gets even grumpier,” he said and made his way out the door. 

They hadn't even made it a few steps before a voice stopped them. “Midorima-kun, you forgot something.”

He turned around. In Kuroko’s hand was his lucky pencil. The one he kept in an inner pocket of his bag so it had no chance of falling out. A quick glance down showed that there were no tears in his bag, so it was most likely that Kuroko had stolen it. How juvenile. He reached out to grab it, but Kuroko took a step backwards. Midorima narrowed his eyes. “Give me back my pencil.” He had no more patience for today.

“I meant what I said earlier. Please don’t be discouraged.”

So they were back to that. Midorima wished that Kuroko would just leave it alone. “As I said before, I wouldn’t let something like that discourage me. I simply underestimated you and was unprepared as a result. I won’t do it again.”

“No.” It was a plea, and it couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

Midorima didn't understand what he had said to warrant such a reaction. He had just said he wasn't going to be discouraged, so why had that upset Kuroko?

“You didn't underestimate me. You probably overestimated my capabilities. There are….extenuating circumstances that have led to the performance you saw today.” 

It didn't change the fact that Midorima lost and Kuroko had won. No matter how ‘extenuating’ the circumstances, Midorima didn't improve as much as the phantom had. And if Kuroko had gotten that much better, then maybe the others had too. He was, after all, the only Miracle not to advance to the finals. He wasn't sure how he had fallen so far behind, but he would rectify that situation at all costs.

“Please stop thinking about it so much. The others haven’t changed like I have. You aren’t hopelessly behind them. Don't take my growth as a measuring stick.”

“What, do you read minds now?” he asked with an intent of heavy sarcasm, but he feared it might have sounded more resigned than anything. 

“No. It took me a very long time to understand you, Midorima-kun. Longer than I would care to admit. But I do understand now, so you have to promise me that you won’t push yourself until you do something you cannot undo.”

Kuroko had always been cryptic, but that was usually because he chose not to speak. Never had he said so much and left Midorima still so confused, but he was willing to promise almost anything so he could leave. “I wouldn’t be so reckless.” 

“It is hard to imagine,” Kuroko agreed. He handed the lucky pencil back to Midorima. “I am sorry for disturbing you, but I feel better now. Midorima-kun was never one to break promises.” He turned to Takao, who Midorima had nearly forgotten existed. “Would you mind a conversation, Takao-kun?” he asked.

Takao shrugged. “I’ll be back,” he said before following Kuroko as he led them away.

Midorima didn't know why they bothered; it was obvious what they were talking about. Kuroko would be asking Takao to watch over him. It was patronizing, and Midorima would probably be a lot more indignant about it if it were any other day. As it was, he just stayed in where they had left him, tugging on his bandages like they weren’t already perfect.

The two weren't gone for very long. “Ready to go, Shin-chan?” Takao asked him.

Midorima ignored it. He was the one who had been wanting to leave the whole time. They took off without a goodbye. Things were a bit too complicated for a thing so simple. 

“Aren’t you going to ask what he said?” Takao asked as they crossed the street.

With a confused emptiness consuming him, curiosity was currently an emotion Midorima was unable to grasp. Besides, he knew what it had been about. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Nah, he didn't say you needed a babysitter, just a friend.”

-M-

As he sat reading his book two weeks after his loss, Midorima would admit that it had all been a bit of an overreaction. Kuroko was, even if he wasn't recognized by the public as such, a Miracle, and Miracles playing Miracles always made for unpredictable outcomes. And if he quit playing, he would never have a chance to pay back the loss. He’d told Kuroko as much after the daily texts were becoming too annoying to bear. 

Of course this new attitude of Midorima’s had only come to surface after Kuroko beat Aomine in the final league. It proved that Kuroko’s words had not been meaningless, and Midorima was no worse off than any of the other Miracles. 

He hadn't gone to the game, but news had been quick to reach him. Truthfully, Aomine deserved what he got for refusing to listen to him. And what happened afterwards was nobody but Aomine’s own fault. 

Aomine Daiki was not what one would consider a graceful loser. It had been that way for as long as Midorima had known him, and most likely even before then. So, when Aomine lost to the one he used to consider his shadow and more recently somebody he declared was beneath him, things didn't go well.

According to Takao, who had been at the game, Aomine ‘lost his shit so completely that I’m surprised he didn't kill somebody.’ Though Seirin would seem like the target he’d choose, Aomine didn't actually attack anyone for once. Instead, his anger was released during the following game where the opposing team had to get out of Aomine’s way before he mowed them all over. He had earned himself a few fouls for this behavior, but nothing could come of it because of what happened next.

There were videos of the incident, so Midorima didn't need to hear second hand accounts to know that it was a careless jump. Aomine had been too far away and too much to the side to have any chance of blocking the shot. It didn't stop him from trying though.

He did actually manage to touch the ball with his fingertips, but he also landed on the side of his foot.

Midorima had never seen a leg snap like that.

As soon as he hit the ground, people were screaming. A few people in the audience seemed to have passed out. The game was immediately stopped, and more than one player on both teams turned away with green faces. The least affected person during all of this was Aomine. He was on his back, hand thrown over his face. His leg was in an unnatural position and dripping blood onto the court. When people began to rush over, Aomine, the absolute idiot, tried to push them all away. Then, making everything worse, he attempted to stand under his own power while Momoi was physically trying to hold him down. This, of course, led to even more pressure being put on the leg and it seemed that the pain was enough to force even Aomine to be still until the ambulance arrived. 

It was highly unlikely that Aomine would be back in top form before the end of the season. When he’d texted Momoi about it (not that he cared, he was simply curious about the diagnosis), she hadn't been able to tell him anything new because Aomine had taken to throwing everyone out of his room, including his parents. A completely unsurprising development in his opinion.

However, not even a miracle could fix the leg before Interhigh started, so Aomine didn't participate.

None of the Miracles had. 

That had been Akashi’s interference at work. He wasn't the kind to have to prove himself twice, so he wouldn’t play until he could defeat them all at the same time. At least, that was what Midorima assumed; Akashi’s motivations were never clear to anybody. Whatever the motive, though, one text was enough to make the others comply. They all withdrew from the tournament and that was the end of that.

Even with no captain, Rakuzan took the title with little effort. Which was notable in the fact that there should have been resistance. From Seirin specifically because while Kuroko had no doubt been told to withdraw, he never listened to Akashi’s orders if he didn't want to. But this time he had. He didn't play with Seirin and the team came in last place as a result. Kuroko must have had a reason for not playing other than Akashi telling him not to, but Midorima had no idea as to what that would be. It was becoming as familiar as it was annoying.

Midorima reached the final page of his book with the knowledge that he didn't retain anything from the last twenty pages. He sighed in irritation at his own wandering thoughts before placing the bookmark to the place it had been before he picked it up. He’d have to reread it later; he had to go to practice.

He walked into the gym ten minutes early, and the first thing he noticed was that Takao wasn't there yet. That wasn't unusual, Takao was the type to either show up twenty minutes early or thirty minutes late. Midorima put his bag in the locker room, and was headed out to do warm-ups when his phone buzzed.

_Sorry, won’t be there 2day. Mom worked late again! C u tommorw!_

Midorima turned off his phone without replying. It wasn't a new thing for Takao’s mother to work later than she usually did and have her oldest son stay home. It happened two or three times a month at the very least. Takao didn't need to say it every time. It was too repetitive.

Practice began without issue. Warm-ups, drills, and new plays were run through so quickly that there was very little time to think about anything else. They were still being punished for two weeks ago. They were being pushed to their absolute limits so it would never happen again.

Even Midorima was dripping with sweat when a break was called halfway through. The gym felt sweltering hot, and for once Midorima found no fault in those choosing to dump their water bottles over their heads and making a mess of everything.

Suddenly, the doors burst open and in walked Shiro. Midorima hadn't even realized that he wasn't at practice. He wasn't important enough to keep track of. 

Shiro seemed angry as he made his way over to Otsubo, but he wasn't yelling when he began to speak, so Midorima didn't know what was being said. The conversation lasted for less than a minute before Shiro went storming out the doors again. Interest lost, Midorima turned back to his water. 

More drills, more plays, more running. Scenario after scenario being shouted out, expecting the appropriate course of action to be yelled back in between harsh breaths. Laps around the gym for being just a fraction of a second too slow.

And it was only seconds before players started dropping that practice was finished. Everyone eagerly began to pack up their things so they could leave, but Midorima only sat to catch his breath, knowing he had two hours of shooting ahead of him before he would be done. 

“Midorima,” Otsubo shouted from across the court.

He looked up at the captain with an eyebrow raised. Otsubo never talked to him unless it was important.

“Come over here for a minute,” he said while shooing away those that had surrounded him.

Midorima had no reason to not do as he was asked, so he decided to see what the man wanted.

“We don't get along.” Were the first words out his mouth.

“And your point?” Midorima asked, mildly annoyed at the obvious statement.

“I think that sums up your relationship with most people, but you do know that just because you’re generally unlikable that doesn’t mean people have the right to bully you, right?” Otsubo asked as if Midorima were stupid.

Midorima was insulted for more reasons than one. “I do not let people harass me if that’s what you’re implying,” he said sharply.

“Don't you? Then you didn't let Shiro drop your bag into the fountain?”

There was only one person besides Shiro and Midorima who knew about that, and a sense of betrayal rushed through Midorima as he realized that that person told Otsubo. Takao knew that he didn't want anyone finding out about that. If it had been anybody else, Midorima would have been the first person to report the incident, but Shiro was different. Midorima wanted to take care of that problem himself or else it was only going to get worse. And Takao knew that. “I fail to see what this has to do with you.”

“Because you’re both on my team, and I don't tolerate that behavior. I’m not telling you to come crying to me every time someone teases you because you know as well as I do that you provoke a lot of that, but anything more serious and I want to know; understood?”

“Understood.” Midorima forced the word out through his embarrassment. He didn't need someone to take care of his problems for him as if he were a child. 

“Good. You should know that Shiro is taking some time off to reflect and then he’ll be spending some time with the second string to realize his actions have consequences. He should know not to bother you from now on.”

Was he expecting a thank you? Midorima certainly wasn't going to give him one, not when he was making everything worse. 

Seeming to realize Midorima wasn't going to say anything, Otsubo sighed. “Go practice, then. Make sure to lock up when you’re done,” he said, ending the conversation.

Otsubo left, and Midorima was alone, but practice was the furthest thing from his mind. He grabbed his bag, locked up the gym, and left. Each step he took allowed the anger that he thought he’d gotten rid of two weeks ago to come creeping back up from wherever he had put it. 

He made the walk in half the time it would usually take. Midorima was fuming as he reached the door. He knocked loudly, prepared to get his point across. The knob turned, the door swung open, and….

Nobody was there.

“Shin-chan!”

Midorima looked down. A four year old little girl was smiling back up at him. He had forgotten about the siblings.

“Kazu, Shin-chan is here!”

Takao appeared from behind the door. He looked tired, bags under his eyes darker than usual “Hiroka-chan, you know better than to open the door.”

“It’s only Shin-chan,” she said with a pout at being scolded.

“But you didn't know that,” Takao told her. He looked back up. “Nice to see you, Shin-chan, you want to come in?”

“You’ve got to come see! We’re making stars!” Hiroka cheered before grabbing Midorima’s hand and pulling him inside.

Anger temporarily forgotten in the face of sheer enthusiasm, Midorima was led into the living room currently filled with yellow paper and copious amounts of glitter. 

“See Shin-chan, look at what I made!” Hiroka said, lifting up two paper stars. 

He winced at the glitter falling into the carpet. “Lovely.”

Takao came in behind them with a laugh. He walked over to the crib sitting in the corner of the room and picked up the baby girl who had just begun to fuss. Gently, he bounced the child until the fussing subsided. “Well, what can we do for you, Shin-chan?”

Reminded of the purpose of his visit, the anger stirred again. However, there were children present, and Midorima wasn't a monster. “You told Otsubo about the fountain,” he said somewhat calmly. 

“I promised I wouldn’t do it, and I didn't.”

“Then how does he know?” He couldn’t really be denying it, could he? There was no point.

“I told Kuroko who I’m assuming told Otsubo.”

Which was exactly the same thing. “Why would you tell Kuroko?” he hissed.

“He asked. He pulled me aside after we lost, remember? Asked if someone was bothering you. Apparently he saw that stunt Shiro pulled during warm-ups, so I told him the truth.”

“You promised.” He glared.

“And you said you’d take care of it, and then you never did. I guess that makes us both liars.”

“Oops,” Hiroka said as she dumped the entire bottle of glitter on the floor.

“Look,” Takao said, ignoring the mess for a minute, “we both know you were never going to actually do anything about it and were too embarrassed to ask for help, so I got you help.”

“I didn't ask for your help.”

“Because for some reason you seem to think you’re capable of doing everything by yourself even if you’re not.”

“That’s not for you to decide!”

“Oh come off it,” Takao said, exhaustion in his voice. “You’re not actually mad at me, you’re still mad about the stupid game. You got mad at me two weeks ago, then two days later because I stepped on your shoe, and then a day after that because I was breathing too loudly. You’re a mess, emotionally, and I was fine with letting you deal with that. I was cool with letting you yell at me until you got yourself together, but it’s been two weeks. You can’t just be mad forever. Or, if that’s your new thing, then I need a nap before you keep yelling.”

With the way his anger suddenly left him, Midorima thought the idea might have some merit. “And how, do you propose, I stop being an ‘emotional mess,’ as you so eloquently put it?”

“I’m no therapist, but just give it some time. You’re already 25% less of a jerk than you were. For improved results, I suggest you start up your Oha Asa obsession again.” Takao’s eyes widened. “Wow, never thought those words would come out of my mouth.”

“Oha Asa betrayed me. I don’t believe in it anymore”

Takao rolled his eyes. “You didn't die that day. You weren’t hit by a car or struck by lightning. Maybe we were supposed to be struck by an asteroid and Oha Asa used all of your good luck points to burn it up in the atmosphere and there was nothing left to make sure you won the game.”

“That was the most unintelligent thing you’ve ever said.”

“But you can’t prove me wrong. Here, we’ll even get you started.” Takao grabbed one of the stars off of the table with one hand, the other still holding the baby. “I know for a fact that today’s lucky item just so happens to be a yellow star, so here you go.” He held it out to Midorima. 

“Kazu!” Hiroka screeched. “You said not to tell!”

“Well now we can tell him.”

Hiroka gathered the finished glittery messes and held them out to Midorima. “Surprise!” she said with a bright smile.

Midorima knelt down to accept the gifts, internally shuddering at the mess covering his fingers as he grabbed them. He stared at them, and a feeling of warmth rushed through him, chasing away the anger. “Thank you.”

“Yep! They were lotsa fun! I can show you!” Hiroka said before turning back to her crafts, ready to give Midorima a step by step instruction guide.

Midorima turned back to Takao, and took the star still being held out to him. “Aren’t you going to take a nap?”

“Are-are you actually offering to babysit?” Takao asked, looking completely shocked.

“I don’t see why not; they’re better company than you are.”

That seemed to be good enough for Takao, and he set the baby back in the crib with a laugh. “I only need a few hours, if that’s okay?”

“Stop talking before I change my mind.”

“You’re the best person, Shin-chan. Forget what I said earlier about you being a jerk. I promise to buy the next week’s worth of Oha Asa items” Takao said. “Fumika-chan just fell asleep, if she starts crying, just come get me. I won’t be that cruel.” He laughed at his own joke. “Hiroka-chan, be good while Shin-chan’s here, okay?” He waited for her nod before leaving to catch up on his sleep. “I’m just upstairs if you need me,” he called out before he disappeared. 

“Shin-chan, you gotta pay attention.” Hiroka said, still holding her safety scissors in the wrong hand.

He returned his gaze to Hiroka. “You should hold your scissors with your right hand. The paper will be easier to cut.”

Hiroka laughed. “Silly, Shin-chan,” she said as she made no effort to follow Midorima’s advice.

Midorima sighed, but let her continue as she pleased. He looked down at the stars still in his hands, focusing on the one that was much neater than the others. “Thank you,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Midorima is such a mess, and Takao is such a bro I love them both. Thank you so much for reading! The support on this is honestly way more than I was expecting especially since the series isn't even running anymore. It means a lot. Let me know what you think!


End file.
